"Find that it gets too much of a hold on my mind to bother
with while I'm still going to school. Day and night I couldn't
think of anything but monoplanes, cylinders, drag brakes, propellers,
guy wires, wing-tips, levers, barographs, barometers, searchlights,
volplaning and all such stuff. It was wearing on my mind, you see.
I even dreamed of flying, and came near taking a header out of my
bedroom window that would have given me a broken leg, or twisted my
neck so I could see both ways to Sunday. So I called it off, and
threw up the sponge for keeps."
"I think you were wise to do it, if you kept worrying over things
like that," Hugh told him, as they walked along together to school.
Lieutenant Fosdick continued to show considerable interest in the
young leader of the Wolf patrol. He had even asked Hugh to write to
him occasionally, and promised that as opportunities arose he would
reply to each and every communication. He knew that he could
describe plenty of adventures, which of course always come thick
and fast to the men in the Army Flying Squadron, even during times
of piping peace.
When Lieutenant Denmead came back from his trip and heard that his
old friend had been in the vicinity, he declared himself very much
disappointed not to have had a chance to see Fosdick again.
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