I never seem to stop flying anymore. I can't catch up with myself. I could use a man to do some of these runs, but they're rough, and long. Lots of bad weather sometimes, especially in the winter. And no one gives a damn. No one wants to hear how hard it is. The mail's got to get there. And then there's all the rest of it, the cargo, the passengers, the short runs here and there, the thrill seekers who just want to go up and look down, the occasional lesson.”

“Sounds like you've got your hands full.” Nick grinned at him. He loved every word of what he was hearing. This was what he had come for. That and his memories of the Ace. Nick needed a job desperately. And Fat was happy to have him.

“This isn't a game here. It's a serious business I'm trying to run, and one day I want to put O'Malley's Airport on the map. But,” Pat explained, “it'll never happen if you knock out all my planes, Nick, or even one. I've got everything riding on those two out there, and this patch of dry land with the sign you saw when you drove in here.” Nick nodded, fully understanding everything he said, and loving him more than ever. There was something about flying men, they had a bond like no one else. It was something only they understood, a bond of honor like no other.

“Do you want me to fly some of the long hauls for you? You could spend more time here with Oona and the kids. And I could do the night stuff maybe. I could start with those and see what you think,” Nick asked him nervously. He was desperate for a job with him, and scared he might not get it. But there was no way Pat O'Malley wasn't going to hire him. He just wanted to be sure Nick understood the ground rules. He would have done anything for him. Given him a home, a job, adopted him if he had to.

‘The night runs might be a start. Even though”- he looked ruefully at his young friend. There were fourteen years separating them, but the war had long since dissolved the differences between them-” some nights that's the most restful place to be.