BY MID-MORNING of the following day the principal topic of conversation in Wayfield High was the proposed organization of a CAP squadron.

Within a matter of hours Tom became acquainted with more schoolmates than he had met in the six weeks since he had been enrolled in the school. On all sides, in all classes, it was evident that there was no lack of interest in flying, for he was the target of an almost endless stream of questions. To all who queried him, he gave the best replies he could devise, at the same time acknowledging that his information was sketchy and telling his interrogators that they could not hope for specific details until Mr. Tolliver heard from the CAP authorities. But though he was harried and pestered, Tom found satisfaction in realizing that the student body of his school was excited by the prospect of the CAP coming to Wayfield. That, alone, was sufficient reward for the trouble to which he was put during the morning.

"You looked sort of busy this morning," Red Martin said to Tom with a sly grin, as they were walking home for lunch.

"Busy! I didn't have a free second all morning," Tom replied. "What I can't understand is how the word spread so fast."

"Well . . ." Red tried hard to speak, but, unable to control his mirth any longer, broke into a guffaw.

Tom stopped dead in his tracks, the dim light of understanding penetrating his mind. "You're the one responsible!" he exclaimed. "You started 'em after me!"

"Nope," Red said as he brought his laughter under control, "it was Frank, Tad, Ned and I who did it. We met before school this morning and agreed to stir things up a little right away. So we stopped everyone we saw and told them that a CAP squadron was going to be organized and that you had all the answers. Don't you think it was a good idea?"

Tom chuckled. "It was a swell idea, except that I was pinned in a corner every time I showed my face outside of class. And even in class I kept getting notes about the thing."

"But it was a good idea," Red persisted.

"Okay, I agree. It proved that there're a lot of fellows in school that are interested, all right."

"What question did they ask the most?" the redhead wanted to know.

Tom paused, then answered, "Funny thing, Red. After they'd asked me how, when, where, and so on, most of them wanted to know if Ralph Cross was going to join up."

"Then we're going to have to persuade him to do it," Red said flatly.

Later that day, Tom was called down to the office of Mr. Tolliver. The gym teacher had been active, for he informed his visitor that he had telephoned Major Boswell during the previous evening and that the CAP officer was going to fly over to Wayfield that afternoon. Following his talk with the major, Tolliver had written to the CAP Wing Headquarters in the state capital, requesting information on organizing a squadron. He was hopeful, he said, that he would receive an early reply and would have much more data to use in planning. Meanwhile, he invited Tom to travel out to the airport after school and to bring with him any others who might want to come along.

Tom immediately sought out Ralph Cross. To his disappointment, the latter declined to attend the airport meeting. Baseball practice, he said, would prevent him from going out to the airfield. As Tom, dejection showing in his face, was turning away, Cross asked him if he was going to be home that evening.

"Sure I will," Tom replied. "Can you come over for a while?"

"I'd like to," Ralph answered pleasantly. "Maybe we can talk this over."

Content with the expectation of seeing Ralph that night, Tom went out to the airport with Red and Tad Sullivan. Crynes and Tolliver were already there and informed the trio that no one else had been able to arrange to meet with Major Boswell. While they waited for the GAP man to arrive, Red regaled them with Tom's experiences during school hours. Though both Nick and the athletic instructor were amused, they were also impressed by the attitude of the Wayfield High students. In the curiosity and interest shown, Tolliver said he saw heartening signs of success.

As soon as Major Boswell landed, he was ushered into Nick's office. With few preliminaries, he launched himself into a discussion of the CAP. At first, he declared, it had not been easy to get the Sandeford Squadron functioning smoothly. There had been a dearth of interest in flying, though there were several plane owners in the area. Starting out with a small group of senior members, Boswell had appreciation of civil and military aviation had been heightened.

In response to a query from Tom, Boswell said that the program of the cadet squadron did not interfere with the members taking part in normal high school activities. The inclusion of aviation instruction, in accordance with a course laid out in CAP manuals, as a part of the high school curriculum reduced the amount of time spent on study outside of school hours. Normally, he said, meetings were held one night a week, though much unscheduled time was spent voluntarily at the squadron headquarters. He did not see why anyone should fear that membership in the CAP would demand an excessive amount of his time.

Somewhat as a shock, though not at all an unpleasant one, the group learned that the CAP had both male and female members. Both senior and cadet girls in Sandeford had done a wonderful job, the major stated, and he urged the Wayfield group to recruit as many women and gifts as possible. They would make the males look to their laurels, the officer promised cheerfully.

For another hour the major answered a variety of questions that were flung at him in rapid-fire fashion. Yes, members had to buy their own uniforms, except that surplus khakis were generally available for issue to cadets. No, the officers were not elected; they were selected by the commanding officer of the squadron. Yes, finances were a problem, though ingenuity would help solve most questions. Yes, cadets could attend summer encampments at Air Force bases whenever accommodations were available. No, the CAP did not give flying instruction to cadets; they could get the "feel" of flying by means of squadron orientation flights, and they were encouraged to learn to fly by taking instruction from private teachers.

Finally the major had to hold up his hands in protest and plead to be excused, for he had to fly back to Sandeford and wished to arrive during daylight. He promised, however, that he would return and he repeated his offer to help in any way that he could.

Strolling toward the little plane that was to carry him back to Sandeford, Major Boswell pulled Tom off to one side. "How would you like to do a little flying next Sunday, Tom?" he asked.

"Do you mean it?" Tom questioned in return, his eyes lighting up.

"You bet I do. Sam Tolliver told me that you've been the one that has been sparking this whole idea of forming an outfit here, and I thought maybe a little flight with us might be in order," the officer said.

"There's nothing I'd rather do, sir," Tom declared earnestly, "and I sure do thank you."

"Fine, then. Have one of your parents sign a release statement, just saying that there is no objection to your making this trip. I'll pick you up about ten o'clock Sunday morning.''

"That sounds swell . . ." Tom stopped suddenly, and the CAP man looked at him quizzically. "Something wrong?"

"Do you think . . . well . . . I hardly know how to say it," Tom had an embarrassed air, "but could you take someone else along with us or in place of me?"

"I don't know about that," Major Boswell answered slowly. "I'11 be flying our four-place ship and I've already asked two other cadets to go along. Who was it you wanted to ask?"

"His name is Ralph Cross, sir. You see, he hasn't quite made up his mind about the CAP, and when he does, it may mean a great deal. I was thinking that there's no better way to get him on our side than to have him do a little flying. So if it's all right with you, I'll drop out and you could take him in my place," Tom said.

"No, Tom, you'll both make the flight," the major stated firmly. "I'm sure one of our boys wouldn't mind giving up his place. So unless I hear from you, I'll see you next Sunday."

"Thank you, sir. Thanks very much!" Tom cried joyfully.

When Ralph arrived at the Carroll home that evening, Tom took him down to the family rumpus room in the basement. There, for better than an hour, Tom repeated what the group had heard from Major Boswell during the afternoon. He laid special emphasis on the CAP officer's opinion that squadron training and operations would not interfere with normal school activities. For his part, Ralph asked several questions, most of which had been posed during the earlier meeting and nearly all of which Tom could answer.

"It all sounds pretty good to me," Ralph said as Tom wound up his remarks. "You're for it then? You'll join?" Tom asked eagerly.

Laughing quietly, Ralph said, "Looks like we'd better get started on things right away. Summer's not too far off, you know, and we ought to be organized by the time school ends so we can do things during vacation."

"That's right," Tom agreed. "There's a lot of work to do. And another thing is that we've got to get rolling now so we can keep the town from selling the air field to Mr. Dawson."

As soon as he uttered the words, Tom knew he had made an error. A frown crossed his visitor's face, and he slumped back silently in his chair.

"That," Ralph said slowly, "is why I didn't answer your question about joining. I don't want to get mixed up with anything that'll affect my friendship with Ed or my family's relations with the Dawsons. So if the first thing that the squadron's going to do is to campaign against the sale of the airport to Mr. Dawson, I don't want to take part in it."

"In the CAP or in the campaign?" Tom queried.

"What's the difference?" Ralph asked. "If I join one, I take part in the other, don't I?"

"Not necessarily," Tom replied. "As I see it, there won't be any squadron if the airport is sold. Okay, a lot of people, probably including many that want to join the GAP, will try and convince people in town that they should vote against the sale. Then, if the offer is turned down, the squadron will be formed."

"In that case," Ralph said cautiously, "if the town decided not to sell the airport, I don't see any reason why I shouldn't join. But what I want to make clear is that I won't do anything to help or hinder the sale of the field to Mr. Dawson."

"Well, I think that's reasonable," Tom said. "I understand why you feel the way you do. But can I say that you'll join if the squadron is formed? It'll help a lot in school, you know."

"From what I heard about the goings on in school today, there wasn't any doubt about a lot of fellows wanting to get into the squadron," Ralph said with a grin.

"I'm not kidding myself about that," Tom said, a serious look on his face. "This is something new and different, and everyone was curious about it. Of course I was pleased, but I know that even though it looks like a lot of fellows are interested now, when it comes to a showdown, we may not find so many wanting to join up."

"I guess that's true. And a lot that may join at the start might drop out later," Ralph agreed.

"That's why I'd like everyone to know that you're coming in with us," Tom declared. "Everyone thinks a lot of you, and it'll make a big difference right from the start."

"Thanks," Ralph said, flushing slightly. "For better or worse, I guess it's true. I am interested in this and I want to be fair about it. It's just that I want to be sure that I'm doing the right thing at the right time."

"Can I say you'll join, if the squadron is formed?" Tom persisted.

"Let's compromise. I'll go to any meetings and I'll do whatever I can to help. But let's not say anything about me promising to join up, at least for a little while."

"Okay. That's fair enough," Tom said. "Now let me tell you about something else."

Tom went on to tell his friend about Major Boswell's offer to take them flying on the following Sunday. There was an immediate and grateful response on Ralph's part, and as the two boys walked to the door they made plans for going out to the airport.

Standing in the doorway, about to leave, Ralph asked, "Tell me, Tom, why are you so keen about flying?"

"I guess," Tom answered after a slight pause, "it's because I feel so good when I'm in the air. I had a few chances to fly as a passenger in a small plane before I came to Wayfield and I always enjoyed it. When you look down, you sort of feel that, well, you're free and everything downstairs is kind of unimportant. I just like it, that's all. Just the way you like sports and things. Then, besides, I think we're living in the air age. There's a great future ahead of us, and I'd like to have some part in building it. I'd like to learn all about it that I can, right now, too. That's why I'm so anxious to have the squadron formed here in our town. It'll help me, and people like me, to get started in aviation. And it'll help the town and the country. Gosh, you'd better stop me. I'm making a speech!"

For a moment Ralph was silent. Then he said, "I've only been up in a plane a couple of times. I haven't thought much about flying, except maybe to think that when I go into the service, the way most of us will, I'd like to be in the Air Force. But, come to think of it, I guess I feel pretty much the way you do."

They said good night to each other a moment later. As Tom went upstairs to his room, he felt that he had found a new friend.