Then, seeing the look of astonishment and also bewilderment that came into the faces of his hearers, he went on to explain further.

“Of course I don’t use that word in the usual sense of getting aboard unknown to any of the officers, perhaps through the complicity of a member of the crew, and hiding ourselves among the cargo.  Such stowaways are a scarcity nowadays, the peril of torpedoes having given them cold feet.  But I believe I can fix it with my friend the captain so that he’ll allow us to remain aboard without our names appearing on the passenger list.”

“Sounds good to me,” asserted Jack, while Tom said thoughtfully: 

“I suppose we could stick to our staterooms during the day, and only go on deck late at night, when nearly everybody was asleep.  Like as not, there’d be quite a number of army officers aboard, so we mightn’t be noticed if any one ran against us while taking the air at night.”

Accordingly this plan was settled upon; and as they were not absolutely certain about the time of sailing, with much still to be done before that event took place, once again did Tom and Jack have to bid their relatives good-bye.

“It’ll not be for so very long now, let’s hope,” said Tom’s father, as he squeezed his son’s hand at parting; “for Germany is on her last legs, and unless all signs fail the war must soon come to an end.”

“Besides,” added Lieutenant Beverly, “none of us is likely to try to repeat the little flight we just carried through.  We feel as if we can rest on our well earned laurels.”

“And it’ll be some time, I firmly believe,” said Mr. Raymond, “before your wonderful feat is duplicated, or even approached.”  But then, of course, he could not foresee how even before the peace treaty had been signed a number of ambitious aviators would actually cross the Atlantic, one crew in a huge heavier-than-air machine, another in an American seaplane, and still a third aboard a mighty dirigible, making the passages with but a day or so intervening between flights.

When a certain steamship left New York harbor one morning soon afterwards three pairs of eyes took a parting look through a porthole in their united stateroom at the Statue of Liberty on Bedloe’s Island.

Of course the occupants of the stateroom were Tom and Jack and Colin.  They had managed to interest the big-hearted captain in their scheme.  He knew that he must not appear to be connected with such an escapade; but such was his admiration for their wonderful achievement, as well as his friendship for Lieutenant Beverly, that he readily consented to help them.

“And so here we are,” Jack observed, after they had passed out from Sandy Hook and were heading across toward troubled Europe, “going back to duty, before our leave of absence will have expired, and the three weeks already nearly half over.  Let’s only hope we can slip into the traces as if nothing unusual had happened and that mad flight was only an aviator’s day dream.”