The officer who had spoken of his wound looked at him with approval.
"I've heard of you, Philip Lannes," he said, "you're the greatest flying man in the world." Lannes' eyes flashed now.
"You do me too much honor," he said, "but it was not I who brought our aeroplane here.

It was my American friend, John Scott, now standing beside me, who beat off an attack upon us and who then, although he had had no practical experience in flying, guided the machine to this spot.
Born an American, he is one of us and France already owes him much." John raised his hand in protest, but he saw that Lannes was enjoying himself.

His dramatic instinct was finding full expression.

He had not only achieved a great triumph, but his best friend had an important share in it.

There was honor for both, and his generous soul rejoiced.
Both John and Lannes stood at attention until the general had read the letter not once but twice and thrice.