Chapter Text
The officers of No. 266 Squadron, RFC, were just sitting down to breakfast when one of the mess waiters entered and called,
“Captain Bigglesworth wanted on the telephone, please!”
Biggles pushed his chair back and stood up with an exclamation of disgust.
“Who wants me at this hour of the morning?” he grumbled. “They might at least have waited another twenty minutes!” Hurriedly gulping his cup of tea, he went out of the room.
He returned a few minutes later, a look of bewilderment on his face.
“What is it?” inquired Algy.
“It was Colonel Raymond on the ‘phone,” Biggles replied. “I’m not sure he hasn’t cracked altogether; he wants me to do some aerial reconnaissance...”
“What’s so odd about that?”
“Wait a minute and let me finish. I’m to go to Aux-le-Neuves, up near Bethune, and take a set of detailed photographs of the priest’s garden.”
“What in blazes does he want those for?” demanded Mahoney, who had been listening. “Sometimes I wonder if these brass-hats don’t want locking up.”
“You might be right,” agreed Biggles. “That’s not all. At least one of the photographs must have the priest in it.”
“Are you sure he’s not having you on?” asked Algy doubtfully.
“Don’t be daft! Don’t you think they’ve got better things to do at Wing Headquarters than ring up squadron officers and send them off on false errands? No; there must be some reason for it, although I’m dashed if I can work out what it is. I’d better get cracking, though. He said he wanted them urgently.” Biggles cast a wistful glance at the breakfast table. “I suppose it needn’t take too long if I catch the priest in his garden. Confound these brass-hats!”
Algy shrugged. “Oh, well. Good luck; although I must say it sounds mad to me. See you later; we’ll try and save you something for when you come back.”