The General laughed sarcastically, and tossed the dispatch to his aide.
“Blazes!” growled the latter. “Since they established their aviation camp back of their lines at Narragansett Pier yesterday, every reconnoisance we’ve attempted has been just like stirring up a nest of yellow-jackets. I’m afraid that we’ve lost another machine, sir. It should have been back here hours ago. If it’s gone, we have only six left; and our crack aviation squadron from San Diego has been whittled down to 14 officers and 90 enlisted men. They simply pile on top of every machine of ours with half a dozen or more of their own.”
“The mounted patrols that we pushed out toward the south last night got good results,” said the General.
“Yes, sir. But,” the aide selected a sheet of paper from the pile, “it’s like trying to build up a monster from a single bone. Look at this, sir. Here’s a green patrol--plucky, too, for they got in farther than most. But see what they give us. They report a regiment of infantry at Exeter, west of Wickford; and they say that there is positively no artillery with it.”
“Of course!” answered the General. “They didn’t know where to look for artillery, or how it is concealed.”[71]
“Nice man-trap that sort of scouting is!” grunted the aide.
“Well, well!” The old General laughed again. “It’s late in the day to kick. We’ve known long ago what sort of soup was being cooked for our eating. The only thing to do now is not to let them ladle it into us too hot.”
An officer with the insignia of the aviation corps appeared before the tent-flap and saluted. A trickle of blood was creeping down his forehead and across one cheek. “Hullo!” said the aide. “Then we haven’t lost that machine after all! Did you get anything?”
“Cavalry and artillery have seized all the railroad and electric lines to Providence,” reported the flier. “Apparently they are not moving into the town, but holding tight so that the troops that are landing there can complete their line. Couldn’t get details--three bi-planes got after me within twenty minutes.”
“They drove me south to the coast. Going over Kingston, I got touched up with shrapnel. Then two other fliers came down on me, coming from the direction of our own lines. I had to hustle across the Sound and fly around Montauk Point and inland before I could shake them off.”