The cry, taken up by a score of youthful voices, echoed and re-echoed along the concrete-paved corridors of the Averleigh T.D.S.--such being the official designation of the Training and Disciplinary School--one of those mushroom-growth establishments that bid fair to blossom into permanent instruction schools under the aegis of the juvenile but virile Royal Air Force. Ensued a wild scramble. The morning mail had arrived but five minutes before the momentous summons. Some of the cadets had seized upon their share of letters, and had retired, like puppies with dainty tit-bits, to the more secluded parts of the building, in which little privacy is obtainable. Others, with scant regard for thei…
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