Project Gutenberg's Dave Dawson with theCommandos, by R. Sidney Bowen

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Title: Dave Dawson with the Commandos

Author: R. Sidney Bowen

Release Date: March 3, 2013 [EBook#42250]

Language: English

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK

DAVE DAWSON WITH THE COMMANDOS ***

Produced by Greg Weeks, Roger L. Holda,Mary Meehan andthe Online Distributed Proofreading Teamathttp://www.pgdp.net

DAVE DAWSON WITHTHE COMMANDOS

by R. SIDNEY BOWEN

Author of:"DAVE DAWSON AT DUNKIRK"

"DAVE DAWSON WITH THE R. A. F.""DAVE DAWSON IN LIBYA"

"DAVE DAWSON ON CONVOYPATROL"

"DAVE DAWSON, FLIGHTLIEUTENANT"

"DAVE DAWSON AT SINGAPORE""DAVE DAWSON WITH THE PACIFIC

FLEET""DAVE DAWSON WITH THE AIR

CORPS"

THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHINGCOMPANY

AKRON, OHIO NEW YORK

COPYRIGHT, 1942, BY CROWNPUBLISHERS

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATESOF AMERICA

[Transcriber's Note: Extensive researchdid not uncover any evidence that the U.S.

copyright on this publication wasrenewed.]

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGEI STRANGE ORDERS 11

II NIGHT ATTACK 22

III EASTWARD TOWAR 34

IV NEXT STOP,ENGLAND! 46

V DEAD MAN'SWINGS 57

VI NAZI WRATH 71VII MORE ORDERS 80

VIII SUDDEN CHAOS 90

IX ORDERS FOREAGLES 106

X VICTORY WINGS 119XI SILENT WINGS 131

XII INVISIBLE DEATH 144XIII FALLING DOOM 156

XIV SATAN'S CALLINGCARD 168

XV VULTURE NEST 181XVI EAGLES' COURAGE 195

XVII STEEL NERVES 209XVIII THE GODS LAUGH 223

XIXCOMMANDOSNEVER QUIT! 233

CHAPTER ONE

Strange Orders

The waiter came over to the table andsmiled politely.

"Is there anything else I can get you twogentlemen?" he asked.

Dave Dawson looked up from his emptyplate and shook his head emphatically.

"No thanks," he said. "I'm close to thebursting point right now. Anything moreand I'd need a second stomach to hold it.

You can bring the check, please."

"Very good, sir," the waiter said, andstarted over to the cashier's nook.

"I say, just a minute!" Freddy Farmerstopped him. "I'm not quite filled yet. I'llhave another piece of that pie, please.And you might bring me another pot oftea. With cream."

The waiter blinked and stared, but caughthimself quickly.

"Yes, sir, at once," he said, and hurriedaway.

Dave groaned and made a little gesture

with his hand.

"There's a name for guys like you, pal,"he said. "But it isn't polite to say it inpublic. For the love of mike, Freddy!What have you been doing, tossing itunder the table when I wasn't looking?Man! You've packed away enough chowto feed a regiment."

"I was as hungry as a regiment when wecame in," the English-born air ace saidplacidly. "You've no objections, haveyou?"

"Not a one," Dawson grinned. "Go aheadand kill yourself. But when you feel theexplosion coming on, let me know. I'll

want to be leaving in a hurry."

"Have no fear," Freddy Farmer assuredhim. "There will be no explosion. Goodgrief! Can't a hungry chap eat without youstaring constantly? After these last fiveweeks I feel as though I'll never getenough food into me. You Americanscertainly do a thing for fair, when youhave a go at it."

"Meaning what?" Dave echoed absentlyas he stared across the hotel dining roomat two rather tough-looking, yet welldressed civilians seated at a table. "Whatare you talking about this time?"

"Why, about what I said," Freddy replied.

"These last five weeks! Or have youforgotten already? If so, I'll refresh yourmemory. For the last five weeks we havebeen attending one of your Commandotraining schools, or rather, I should say,Ranger training schools. We completedthe course only yesterday, and here weare on leave awaiting orders. We bothtook English Commando training last yearin England. But it was certainly nothinglike the training we've just completedhere in the States. You Americans really—I say! Are you listening to me?"

"Huh?" Dave grunted, and looked at him."Were you saying something, pal?"

Freddy pressed his lips tight and blew airthrough his nose.

"How you ever became a commissionedofficer, with such manners, I'll neverunderstand!" he snorted. "Of course I wassaying something! But don't let me boreyou further. I can see something frightfullyimportant is on your mind. You do have amind, don't you? Well, what is it? I'll bepatient, and listen."

"Oh, skip it," Dave grinned. "Sorry fromthe bottom of my heart, sweetheart. Goahead. Put the record on again."

"Like Shakespeare, I never chew mycabbage twice!" Freddy snapped. "No,

never mind. I insist upon knowing thereason for that puzzled look on thathomely face of yours. Out with it, mylad."

"Just a couple of fellows eating on theother side of the room," Dave said. "I'vecaught them eying us quite a bit. Came injust after we did. No! Don't look rightnow, dope! It's not polite."

Freddy checked his turning head andflushed slightly.

"Rubbish!" he mumbled. "But what'swrong with two people looking at us?Frankly, I think we look rather pukka inour U. S. Army Air Force uniforms, and

wings, and all that sort of thing. Orperhaps I present an interesting contrast toyour sloppy appearance."

"Boy! You must have strained a brain cellon that!" Dave growled. "Okay! Sopeople look at us. But there are abouttwenty other officers in this dining room.And these two guys—Well, if I weregoing to rob a bank, or maybe kidnapsomebody, I think I might be tempted tomake a deal with those two. Okay! Take asneak look now."

Freddy twisted around and made asthough to brush something off his leftshoulder with his right hand. He took a

quick look across the dining room andthen turned back to Dave.

"Phew! They are a nasty-looking pair,aren't they!" he breathed. "But maybethey're house detectives, or something.I've always read in your Americandetective books that hotel detectives aregenerally horrible-looking creatures."

"Say, maybe you've got something there,pal!" Dave said with a laugh. "That'swhat they've been doing!"

"Eh?" the English youth echoed. "Whathave they been doing?"

"Counting the knives and forks and

spoons, as the waiter put them in front ofyou!" Dave shot at him. "I bet you a buckthey search you before you leave."

"Well, they'd certainly—!" Freddy gaspedbefore he caught himself. "Blast yourears, Dave! You made me fall right intothat one. Right you are! My turn willcome, my good fellow. Seriouslyspeaking, though, have they really beengiving us more than usual notice?"

"I'd call it that," Dave said with a shrug."But maybe my imagination's going a littlebit haywire tonight. No, not that, exactly. Imean, waiting for orders makes me thinkall kinds of things. Darn it all, the picture

just isn't complete, if you get what Imean."

Freddy Farmer shook his head and lookedvery grave.

"I'm afraid I don't, old chap," he said."Something bothering you that I don'tknow anything about?"

"Nope," Dawson said. "Nothing that youdon't know about. It's the set-up we're innow. Five weeks ago we volunteered totake the Commando training course.Colonel Welsh, Chief of all U. S.Intelligence, thought it would be a goodidea if we took it. So we did. So wecompleted training yesterday. So we

came down here to New York on leaveuntil orders should arrive. But we had tosay where we'd be stopping. Okay. Sofar, so good. But how long do we stayhere? What happens next? What ordersare we going to receive? And when? Andhow will they come to us? See what Imean? It's all hanging in the air. Nothingdefinite. Heck! We might be at a moviewhen a phone call came through fromColonel Welsh or somebody, and wewouldn't be here. I mean, it strikes me thatwe should have been told to report tosomebody every day to see if our orderswere ready. But—"

Dave let the rest slide, and gestured

helplessly. Freddy nodded slowly, andpursed his lips.

"You're quite right, Dave," he murmured,and frowned. "It does seem a bit queer,when you come to think of it. I—Goodgrief! Do you suppose, Dave?"

Dawson looked at him with one eyebrowcocked.

"Do I suppose what?" he asked.

At that moment the waiter arrived withFreddy's second slice of pie and his potof tea. The English youth waited until hehad made his retreat.

"Do you suppose we failed horribly at theCommando school," he said, "and—andthis is just a gentle way of letting usdown? I mean, sort of give us a bit ofleave here in New York to buck up ourspirits, and then post us back to some airsquadron?"

Dave didn't say anything for a moment.He thought back over the last five weeksof vigorous training that either made orbroke a man.

"I don't mean to boast," he said slowly,"but if we didn't pass out of that trainingschool with pretty fair marks, then therecan't be more than a dozen or so who did.

But now you've hit upon the thought that'sbeen bothering me."

"Make that a bit clearer," Freddy said. "Idon't quite follow you. What thought?"

"The Commando business," Dave repliedwith a little gesture. "We took the trainingbecause Colonel Welsh thought it wouldbe a good idea. Does that mean we'reCommandos from now on? Are wewaiting for Commando orders? Or are wewaiting for further orders from ColonelWelsh?"

"Good grief, yes!" the English youthgasped, and smiled faintly. "Fact is,though, I've been so jammed full of

Commando tactics these last five weeks,that it didn't even occur to me that wemight not continue along that line. Quite,Dave! Ten to one the Commando businessis all behind us, and we're simply waitingfor Colonel Welsh to dig us up anotherAir Intelligence assignment. But somehow—"

Freddy Farmer let the rest hang in mid-air, and gave a little half shake of hishead.

"Somehow you hope not, Freddy?" Daveasked softly. "That what you mean, pal?"

Freddy grinned and nodded slightly.

"Frankly, yes," he said. "I enjoyed everyminute of that Commando school. I fancyI'd like the chance to put into actualpractice a bit of what I learned. Quite! Itwould be a bit satisfying to take a knifeaway from some Nazi blighter and tosshim over my shoulder, the way they taughtus."

"You can say that again!" Dave chuckled."I received a lot of lumps learning that bitof self-defense. I sure would like to try itout on a Nazi tramp. And no rubber knife,either, like the instructor used. But, heck!I guess we're just hollering down the rainbarrel, pal. Commando and Yank Rangerunits are being formed in England, not

here. That's where the finishing touchesare put on. After all, we're a couple ofpilots, not infantrymen. No, I guessColonel Welsh figured it might be a goodidea to round out our combat education abit. So he suggested that we take thecourse."

"Probably," Freddy agreed with anunhappy sigh. "Just a bit of schooling tokeep us out of trouble while he decidedwhat job to set us at next. Oh well, Ienjoyed the schooling—thoroughly!"

"It was fun, and how," Dave grunted. "ButI sure hate to have all these tough musclesI built up go to waste. Doggone you,

Freddy! Seeing you shovel that extra slabof pie into your face has made me hungryagain! I guess I'll join you, at that. Butwithout the tea!"

Dave turned to signal the waiter, and itwas then that he saw the man in personheading his way. The waiter carried awhite envelope in one hand, and he wastaking the shortest route across the diningroom. In his other hand he carried thedinner check. In true waiter style, hepresented the check first. Dave glanced atthe score and whistled under his breath.The hotel they had picked slip-out-of-the-hat style was not exactly favorable to aCaptain's pay. However, he felt a little

better when he realized that three fourthsof the check was Freddy Farmer'sobligation.

"Pardon," murmured the waiter. "Are youCaptains Dawson and Farmer?"

"That's right," Dave told him. "I'mCaptain Dawson. So that makes himCaptain Farmer."

"A gentleman just gave this to the headwaiter, sir," the man said, and held out theenvelope. "He said it was to be given toeither Captain Dawson or CaptainFarmer."

"Thanks," Dave said, and took the

envelope.

It was plain white and contained Freddy'sname and rank, and his own, on theoutside. There was nothing else writtenon the front side. He glanced at Freddyand then turned it over to pry up thegummed flap. He saw that two ink lineshad been drawn across the sealed portion.In that way it was possible to tell if theletter had been opened. He peered at thetwo ink lines and knew that the letter hadnot been unsealed.

"What do you suppose?" Freddymurmured.

"Could be from the management asking us

to leave because you eat too much," Davegrunted, and wedged a finger under thecorner of the flap. "But my guess is thatit's what we've been waiting for: wordfrom Colonel Welsh. He has a habit ofdoing things this way, you know. Butpardon me! It's addressed to us both. Doyou want to open it, my little man?"

"Stop your silly chatter, and open theblasted thing!" the English youth snapped."I'm on pins and needles."

"Give me time!" Dave growled, andstruggled with the flap. "The darn thingseems nailed down as well as gummed.Okay. Here goes for the news."

He got the flap torn open and pulled outwhat was inside. It was a single sheet offool's cap paper, and the words on itwere neatly typed. He read the twoparagraphs that made up the letter, and hisscowl deepened with each new word.Freddy, watching him, twisted andsquirmed in his chair with suspense.Finally he couldn't stand it any longer.

"Here!" he snapped. "Pass it over, if youdon't know how to read!"

"Take a read," Dave said softly, as hisscowl remained. "Take a good read, andthen you tell me, pal!"

CHAPTER TWO

Night Attack

It was all Freddy Farmer could do not tosnatch the letter from Dave's extendedhand. He took it, settled back in his chair,and bent his eyes on the typed words.Stunned amazement spread all over hiswind- and sun-bronzed face as he read thetwo paragraphs.

"Upon receiving this you will leaveyour hotel and proceed to SixHundred and Ninety-Seven (697)

River Street.

"The route you will follow to thisaddress is as follows. Walk fromyour hotel south to Cort Street. Gowest along Cort Street to TenthAvenue. Then south to River Street,and east to Number 697. There ringthe bell under the name, Brown. Besure to follow these route directionsexactly.

"X-Fifteen"

Freddy read it through twice, and thenraised his eyes to meet Dave's.

"X-Fifteen?" he murmured softly. "That'sone of the code identifications thatColonel Welsh uses! So he must be herein New York, and not in Washington."

"Could be," Dave grunted, and started topush back his chair. "The Colonel getsaround a lot, you know. Well, I guessthat's us, pal. Certainly screwy orders.That's quite a walk from here. But maybeafter you've had Commando trainingyou're a sissy if you take a cab. So—Well, what do you know?"

"Eh?" Freddy Farmer ejaculated. "Whatdo I know?"

Dave stood up and half nodded his head

at the other side of the dining room.

"Our rough tough-looking friends havevanished in thin air," he said. "They aren'taround any more. Must have got sick ofgiving us the eye, and pulled out."

"Their perfect right!" Freddy snorted, andgot up also. "You were probablyimagining things, anyway. Right you are.Let's get on with it. We—Half a minute,my fair weather friend! You haven't leftenough money for your share of thedinner."

"One fourth of the bill, plus tip," Davegrunted scornfully. "Read it and weep.Three fourths of that went inside you,

sweetheart. I love you like a brother, but Irefuse to foot your food bills. Nix! Anddouble nix!"

"Phew, so I did!" Freddy gasped as he ranhis eye down the list of things servedthem. "And the trouble is, I'm still hungry.Oh, very well. Share and share alike,with a tightwad like you. Even figured itout to the penny, too! Now, if you werewith me in England—"

"I'd be pleading with the cops not to haveyou shot for stomach hoarding!" Davesnapped. "Pay up, and shut up. Or pay itoff washing dishes. You'd look cute in anapron, Freddy. I could meet you later and

let you know what Colonel Welsh has tosay. I—"

He stopped and grinned wickedly asFreddy threw him a rapier glare. TheEnglish youth paid his share and thenjoined him as Dave walked out of thedining room. They got their hats from thecheck girl, and went on out through thehotel lobby to the street. The dim-out hadcome to New York City, and it made bothof them think of London, and other war-scarred cities they had seen.

For several blocks they were toocontented with their own thoughts tospeak. But when they were almost

halfway to their destination, FreddyFarmer broke the silence.

"You know, Dave," he said, "this makes achap feel rather silly. It's like a gameyou'd play in school, or something. Imean, why in the world have us followthis particular route? You'd think we hadvaluable information, and were taking thisroute to some secret headquarters tothrow off possible pursuit. Blasted queer,I call it!"

"You tell me something about war thatisn't screwy at first glance," Dave gruntedas they turned the corner into Cort Street."But Colonel Welsh knows his business,

and if he wants us to walk all over townto report to him, then we walk all overtown. But he sure did pick the darkerstreets. This one right here makes methink of a coal mine. Watch your step,Freddy, or you may spill into an ash canor something. In this section of town theydon't always put them right on the curb.And—"

Dave stopped talking abruptly, and healso pulled up to a quick halt. Freddywent on a pace or two, then stopped andwaited.

"What's the matter?" he asked. "Think youwere running into one of them? An ash

can, I mean?"

"No," Dawson grunted, and movedforward again. "Thought I saw somethingmoving up ahead—somebody duckinginto a doorway. Doggone it! I must begetting the jimjams. You'd think I weretrying to steal across Berlin and give theGestapo the go-by. Good gosh! This isNew York, for cat's sake! And—Freddy!"

Dave had only time to bark out his pal'sname as two shadows came charging outof a night-darkened doorway. He sensedthem, rather than saw or heard them. Itwas more that sixth sense, that sciencecalls premonition, that put him on the alert

and made him drop halfway to one kneeand shoot his hands up and out in front ofhim.

One of the shadows came at him like astreak of black lightning. He wasn't sure,but in the split second he was allowed toset himself he thought he saw the dullgleam of a knife in an upraised hand.Maybe so; maybe not. He didn't bother tomake sure. The silent attacker wascoming upon him too fast. There was notime for thought. There was only time foraction—furious, split second action forwhich he had been training these last fiveweeks.

And so action it was! He dropped like aflash, ducked his head, and then stiffenedhis legs and shot his body upward, halfturning it at the same time. He felt the topof his head crash into a broad chest, andhe felt his hands lock about the wrist ofthe hand that held the knife. A quick pivoton the balls of his feet, and a benddownward that brought the attacker's armdown across his shoulder. He heard thegasp of pain, heard the clatter of a knifehitting the pavement, and then he wasarching his back and twisting viciously.The result was that his helpless attackerflew over him like a sack of wet wheat,and slammed down on the pavement onhis side. Dave clung to the wrist, but the

attacker's greater weight pulled it free,and the man went rolling over and overtoward the gutter.

In a flash, Dave dived after him, but theattacker seemed full of coiled steelsprings. He was up on his feet in a flashand speeding down the badly lightedstreet. Impulsively Dave streaked hishand to where his holstered service gunshould have been. Only it wasn't there. Itwas back in the bureau drawer in hishotel room! He took a couple of leapingsteps after the fleeing shadow, butchecked himself and swerved sharply as asecond shadow virtually flew past him.He shot out his hands, got hold of

jacketcloth, but all the good that did himwas that he ripped off a piece of a jacketas the second shadow went by him anddown the street.

"Dave! You all right?"

He turned to see Freddy Farmer at hiselbow. The English youth was breathinghard, and fingering the right side of hisjaw.

"I'm okay, but boiling!" Dave grated. "Ihad my bird cold, so I thought. But hemust be made of rubber. I couldn't staywith him. What's the matter with yourjaw?"

"The blighter's head!" Freddy Farmermuttered. "We connected violently. Say,Dave! Those beggars had knives. There'sone! And there's the other. Phew!Wicked-looking things, aren't they?"

The English youth had stooped down andretrieved two knives out of the gutter. Inthe bad light Dave and Freddy saw thatthey were mates. Each was about seveninches long, razor sharp, and with aneedle point. Dave squinted at them andwhistled softly.

"You see what I see, Freddy?" hebreathed. "They had knives exactly likethose at the Commando school! Looks

like a couple of thugs stole a couple."

"But as you said, Dave," Freddy cried,"this is New York! I know yourunderworld characters use machine guns,and such. But do they also go about thestreets knifing people to steal theirpurses?"

Dave didn't reply at once. He stoodscowling down at the pair of knives, ascold, clammy chills started rippling upand down his spine. He knew full wellthat anything can happen in New YorkCity, and usually does in time. But to beknifed for the few dollars he carried,instead of being blackjacked, or held up

at the point of a gun, was something thatjust didn't jell right in his brain. He alsowas hit by another equally disturbingthought. The light had been so bad, andthe action so swift and short lived, hehadn't got so much as a flash glimpse ateither of the attackers. But for generalbuild—well, he couldn't help but think ofthe two hard-faced men back in the hoteldining room.

"I'm nuts, completely nuts!" he chidedhimself aloud. "It just couldn't havebeen!"

"What couldn't have been?" FreddyFarmer wanted to know.

"Those two, just now," Dave replied. "Ihad the flash thought that they might havebeen that hard-faced pair in the diningroom. But they didn't come at us frombehind. They were ahead of us. Besides,they left before we did. Well, which ofthese do you want for a souvenir?"

"Neither," Freddy replied. "I suggest weturn them over to Colonel Welsh. Thoseare Commando knives, right enough. Hemight be interested to know that some ofyour American underworld chaps alsocarry them."

"Or—" Dave started to say, and thenstopped himself with a snort of disgust.

"Doggone, but my imagination is goinghaywire tonight! Must be something I ate."

"You don't think they were underworldbeggars?" the English youth demanded."Good grief! You're not thinking of Naziagents, are you?"

"Well, I did give it a whirl for a secondor two," Dawson confessed with a shrug."But that's plain silly. No Nazi agentsshould have any interest in us, right now."

"I don't know about that," Freddy gruntedas they started along the street again. "TheGestapo beggars are quite keen aboutrevenge killings, you know. And we'vebeen lucky enough to send a few of them

to where they belong in days gone by."

"Okay, Nazi agents!" Dave snorted. "Theyread those route instructions before wedid, and were waiting for us in the darkdoorway! See? It doesn't make sense,Freddy. It's all cockeyed to drag Naziagents into this thing."

"You're right, of course," the Englishyouth murmured. "But all I can say is,praise the good Lord for our Commandotraining. I'm still shuddering, thinking ofone of those things slicing into my hide.And my beggar almost got me, I'll franklyconfess."

"Well, mine didn't exactly send me a

letter," Dave echoed. "I'm sore we didn'tstop them, though. After that scare itwould have done me a world of good togo to work on his mug. Well, one thing,and that's final. From now on I'm notgoing to leave my gun parked in a bureaudrawer. Let the public laugh and snicker.If I'd had it, I could have clipped that birdin the leg and brought him down. But,boy! What a pair of broken field runnersthey were!"

"Let's try and forget about them, if youdon't mind," Freddy said with a littleshudder. "And let's put on a bit of speed.My nerves never were of the best, youknow."

The remark brought a laugh from Dave.

"Listen to him lie, will you!" he cried."Pal, if your nerves aren't the best I evercame across, then I'm Uncle Bay-WindowGoering. But I was just about to suggest,myself, that we get over on Tenth Avenuewhere there's more light and fewerdarkened doorways. Not too fast, though.I've still got some jelly in my knee joints."

The rest of the trip, though, was madewithout incident or accident. And in duetime they were standing in front of a fivestoried brick building that was Number697 River Street. The street was dimmedout like all the rest, but it wasn't half so

dark as had been Cort Street. Also, therewere plenty of people passing by on thesidewalks. They stared up at the buildingfront in silence for a moment. It showedonly one lighted room, and that was on thethird floor.

"Well let's go up the steps and push Mr.Brown's bell button," Dave eventuallygrunted. "There's an entryway light there,so we should be able to find it. Let's go."

They went up the stone steps to the smallouter foyer that contained a double row ofbell buttons. They found the one that had"Brown" printed on the plate card, andDave stabbed it with his thumb. They

didn't hear the ring inside, and for acouple of minutes they stood there justwaiting.

"Give it another go, Dave," Freddysuggested.

Dawson lifted his hand, but froze it inmid-air as the shadow of a figureappeared on the other side of the door.There was the sound of a locking boltbeing shot, and a key being turned. Thenthe door was pulled inward to reveal thefigure on the other side. Both Dave andFreddy gulped and stared. Standing in thelighted doorway was a Sergeant ofinfantry, complete with side-arms. The

Sergeant flashed them both a searchinglook, then stepped back, opening the doorwider.

"Come in, sirs," he said. "And follow me,please."

CHAPTER THREE

Eastward To War

For a long minute Dave and Freddy juststood there and stared at the infantrySergeant as though he were somethingescaped from a museum. Then theysnapped out of their collective trance andstepped in through the door. It was thenthat Freddy let the question pop off hislips before he could stop it.

"Is Colonel Welsh here, Sergeant?" heasked.

The non-commissioned officer looked athim with a faint puzzled frown.

"Colonel Welsh, sir?" he echoed. Then,shaking his head, "No, sir. There's noColonel Welsh here. My orders are totake you to Major Barber. Follow me,please."

The two flying aces exchanged looks,shrugged, and then followed the Sergeantup the stairs. On the landing of the thirdfloor the Sergeant turned right along ahallway and finally came to a stop in frontof the fifth door down on the right. Hemotioned politely for Dave and Freddy towait, then knocked and went inside.

"I don't think I like this, Dave!" Freddywhispered when they were left alone."You heard him say that Colonel Welshwasn't here. What the devil do yousuppose is up?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Dawsonreplied with a scowl. "I'm beginning tosuspect, though, that it's something veryhush-hush. I still wish I hadn't left myservice gun in the hotel. Here, Freddy. I'mprobably acting silly, but you never cantell."

As Dave spoke the last he fished out oneof the Commando knives and slipped itinto Freddy Farmer's hand. The English

youth took it without a word and let itslide into his pocket out of sight.

"Think we're foolish to wait here, Dave?"he breathed a moment later. "After what'shappened tonight, we may be simplyasking for more trouble. It's certainly amixed up mess."

"Plenty screwy," Dave grunted with anod. "But I'm a curious cuss. And I'm justsore enough to follow this wholecockeyed business through to the end. Butkeep on guard, Freddy. Back to back, pal,and so forth."

"Quite!" Freddy grated, and hunched hisshoulders as though to get himself set to

spring at a split second's notice.

Another minute, and the door opened andthe Sergeant reappeared. He pulled thedoor wide, stood to one side andmotioned for the two air aces to enter.They stepped through into a plainlyfurnished outer office. The Sergeantclosed the door, walked past them andopened a door on the right.

"In there, sirs," he said. "Major Barber iswaiting."

"And just who is Major Barber?" FreddyFarmer demanded, and didn't move.

The Sergeant started to grin but cut it off

instantly.

"He'll tell you, sir," he said. "Go in,please."

The two youths hesitated a fraction of asecond longer; then by mutual accord theystepped through the second door and intoa smaller office. It contained a desk, afew chairs, a filing cabinet or two, and alone picture of President Roosevelt on thewall. Seated at the desk was an iron gray-haired Major in the uniform of infantrystaff. He smiled and rose from his chairas they entered.

"Evening, Captains Dawson and Farmer,"he said, and extended his hand. "Glad to

see you here. Sit down, both of you."

The two youths shook hands with him,and then settled themselves in chairs. TheMajor reseated himself and rearranged afew papers on his desk. Dave watchedhim closely, and spun his brain in aneffort to try and figure out just what thepicture was this time. Presently the Majorlooked up and gave them both a quizzicalsmile.

"Of course you're not wondering anything,are you?" he asked with a faint chuckle."Any trouble on the way down here?"

Dave stiffened slightly. Things began toclick a little in his head. He gave the

senior officer a long searching look.

"No, not a thing, Major," he lied quietly.Then with a little gesture of one hand,"Should something have happened?"

That seemed to please the Major, for hegrinned broadly. A moment later he took acard from his pocket and passed it acrossthe desk.

"Time to unmask, I guess," he said."There's my identification. You can bothrelax. Sorry things had to be somysterious, but that's the way we have towork sometimes."

Dave took the card and held it so Freddy

Farmer could see it also. He took onelook, gulped, and shot a quick glance atthe grinning man in infantry staff uniform.The card, which contained a smallpicture, plus a left thumb print, stated thatthe holder was one Major E. J. Barber,officer in charge of all Commando unitsin training in the United States. It wassigned by General Marshall, and also byColonel Welsh.

The name was suddenly very familiar toDave, but he couldn't place it exactly fora moment. Freddy Farmer beat him to it.

"I say!" he gasped. "Major Barber! Ofcourse! You served originally with the

British, sir. You helped build the originalBritish Commando force. You won theMilitary Cross, and the DistinguishedService Order for those first Commandoraids on Occupied Norway. And now—?"

Freddy stopped as though embarrassed atblurting out so much. The senior officerwidened his grin and nodded.

"You've unmasked me, Farmer," he said."That's right. And now that Uncle Sam isin it, I'm fighting under my own country'sflag. But that's just the same as fightingunder England's flag. From now on thetwo countries are going to become more

and more like one big country, I think.Well, satisfied with my identity now, eh?"

Dave gravely handed back the card, andlooked at the man.

"So it was a test?" he murmured, andplaced the captured Commando knife onthe desk with his other hand. "Do I feel asap! That idea never even occurred to me.But they were as near the real thing as Iever hope to see. Thank goodness I wasn'tcarrying side-arms!"

"Eh?" Freddy Farmer ejaculated, pop-eyed. "A test...? Good grief! You meanthose two chaps who had a go at ustonight? But I say—!"

The English-born air ace couldn't go on.He stopped abruptly and shook his headin stunned bewilderment. And as thoughhis brain didn't realize what his hand wasdoing, he took out his own Commandoknife and placed it on the table besideDave's. Major Barber picked them bothup and gently tapped the needle pointsagainst a fingernail as he lookedadmiringly at the two youths.

"Check and double check," he finallysaid. "That's just what happened. And Imight add, you almost caused two of mybest men to resign from the Commandoservice, or the Rangers, as it will becomeknown as time goes on. Tonight was the

first time that either of them had lost theirknives. They were on the phone just a fewminutes before you arrived. Theydeclared that if there were any more likeyou two I wanted tested, I'd have to getsomebody else. In fact, they begged mefor a couple of days' leave to rest up fromthe rough going over you gave them. Mycongratulations!"

"Thanks, sir," Dave mumbled as hesuddenly had a funny feeling in thestomach. "Holy smoke! If I'd been able tokeep my grip on my man, I'm afraid I'dhave broken his arm right off, andprobably his neck. But a test! Why? Imean—that is—well, you do this sort of

thing often, sir? I mean—"

Dave stopped and floundered about forsuitable words. The Major tossed the twoknives on the desk and leaned forward.

"Not every day, Dawson," he said quietly."But often enough. Let me explain. As yetour Commando units are not organized orcompletely whipped into shape for actionas all-American units. Some, however,who have gone through the training haveshown that they are as good as they'll everbe, short of actual experience against theenemy. Those men we pick out and sendacross to get that actual service withoperating British Commando units. With

that action experience under their belts,they make fine instructors for the units weare sending over to England for finalpolishing up."

The Major paused to catch his breath andclear his throat.

"Each man selected for immediate activeservice is ordered to report to me here,"he continued presently. "He does notknow that he is reporting for Commandoduty, so the last thing he's thinking of is anattack upon his person here in New YorkCity. That way I can tell for sure if he isthe man that I want to send across inadvance of the regular Commando forces.

My two men, both of whom have seenactual Commando service with me, carryout the test and report to me. Up untiltonight they rather enjoyed their work.They're tough, and they can take a lot ofpunishment. But it seems you two gavethem a little extra to take tonight."

As the senior officer paused, both Daveand Freddy continued to sit silent andmotionless. To tell the truth, their brainswere spinning just a little too much tomake comment possible. But in a fewseconds Freddy managed to unhinge histongue.

"So—so we're going across for

Commando duty, sir?" he blurted out."But I thought this Commando trainingwas just a—well, a stopover betweenjobs Colonel Welsh had for us. I—"

"Hold everything, Farmer!" Major Barberlaughed, and held up a hand. "I know youtwo are airmen, and it's the air where youshine the best. But—well, this is a bitdifferent from my regular procedure.You're not going across as strictlyCommando material. No, that's not right,either. You'll be all Commando. Don'tworry about that. But in addition, there'llbe an extra little assignment for you twoto carry out."

"Sounds interesting, sir," Dave saideagerly, as the other paused. "What's theextra little assignment?"

The smile faded from Major Barber'sface, and he shook his head vigorously.

"No soap, Dawson," he said. "You're notgoing to find that out right now. In fact,not until after you have arrived inEngland. And incidentally, you're leavingfor England tonight."

Coming right on top of everything elsethat had happened, the Major's laststatement brought both boys up straight intheir chairs. They exchanged wide-eyedglances, and then focussed their gaze on

the senior officer again.

"Leaving for England tonight?" FreddyFarmer echoed breathlessly. "I say! That'swonderful! Positively marvelous!"

"Figured it might please you, Farmer,"Major Barber said with a smile. "Yes, allthree of us are leaving for Englandtonight. You'll have me for company, ifyou can stand it, as far as Botwood, inNewfoundland. An Army bomber iswaiting at Mitchel Field for us right now.At Botwood, though, we'll part company.At Botwood you two will get furtherorders."

The Commando chief paused for a

moment and stared thoughtfully down atthe desk top. Eventually he raised hiseyes and gave a little half shrug.

"I don't want you two to be too much inthe dark," he said slowly, "so I'll tell youthat this show, if carried out successfully,will have a marked bearing on whether ornot the United Nations open up thatsecond front that everybody is yellingtheir heads off about. And—take it as asincere compliment, if you wish—a goodchunk of that success is going to rest onyour youthful shoulders."

"Well, that clears up everything, sir,"Dave said with a grin. "Now we know

what this is all about."

"Stop fishing, Dawson," Major Barberchuckled at him. "It won't do you the leastbit of good. Not that I don't trust you twoas much as I'd trust my own father andmother. But that's not the point. As we allknow, the fewer who know about asurprise, the more of a surprise it is. AndI definitely want this little business to bea surprise to Hitler and his bunch ofcutthroats. So until the time is ripe,nobody is being told a thing aboutanything."

Grave and serious as the conversationwas, Dave couldn't stop the smile that

tugged at his lips. The Major spotted itand cocked an eyebrow.

"Something strike you funny, Dawson?"he asked.

"No, not funny, sir," Dave repliedinstantly. Then with a flash side glance atFreddy's intent and grave face, he wenton, "I agree with you that it's best to waituntil the time is right for final instructions.Besides snoring something terrible,Farmer, here, often talks in his sleep."

It was just the thing needed to ease themounting tension. Major Barber burst intogales of laughter, and Freddy Farmerpractically shot straight up out of his seat,

and turned all the colors of the rainbow.Dave put out a protective hand.

"Take it easy, pal!" he cried. "I've got awitness to anything you do. Better waituntil we're alone."

The red remained in Freddy's cheeks, buthe made no move toward Dave. Hesimply regarded him with scorn, ratherlike something the cat had dragged in.Then he looked at Major Barber.

"Your two test men gave you a completereport on tonight's little affair, sir?" heasked. "They told you everything?"

The senior officer blinked, and stared at

Freddy as though trying to find out whatwas behind the words.

"Why, yes, I believe so," he said. "Butwas there something they left out?"

Freddy looked at Dave with friendly pityin his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Dave," he said quietly. "Iknow I promised, but—well, that lastremark from you deserves the punishmentof the truth. Sorry, and all that. But youasked for it, old man."

"Say, what is this?" Major Barberdemanded, leaning forward. "What truthabout Dawson?"

"Then they didn't tell you that part, sir?"Freddy Farmer murmured. "That it wasDawson who threw himself flat to thesidewalk and screamed for the policewhile I battled those two chaps?"

"Ouch!" Dave cried, and clapped a handto his forehead. "Will I never learn tokeep my big mouth shut!"

CHAPTER FOUR

Next Stop, England!

Grey skies covered the world from northto south, and from east to west. Standingon the tarmac of the now world famousBotwood field, from which countlessplanes had been flown by unsung airheroes to eagerly awaiting pilots on theother side of the Atlantic, Dave andFreddy tugged their flying suit collars abit tighter and looked at each other,bright-eyed.

"Some sight, hey, pal?" Dave grunted, andswept a hand toward the array of warplanes of all descriptions that lined allfour sides of the field. "It would kind ofmake Adolf feel sick, if he could get alook at that bunch."

"He'll hear them, if not see them, soonenough!" Freddy replied with emphasis."And I hope I'll be in one of them that'sright over his head. I say! What beastlyweather, though!"

"This?" Dave echoed, and looked at himin surprise. "Why, I should think it wouldmake you feel homesick. I've seen plentyof weather just like this on your tea-

drinking island. Holy smoke! Every timethe sun comes out in England, you birdsdon't know what it is that's happened forthe first couple of minutes. What's thematter, pal? Down in the dumps becauseyou've been hooked for a bit of possibleaction?"

"No, not a bit of it," Freddy sighed. "Justthe usual unhappy feeling. Man! How I'dlove to be given a war assignment withouthaving to worry about you being along toprobably mess up the whole business! ButI suppose that's the cross I must bear."

"You'll bear a punch in the nose, if youdon't look out!" Dave growled. "But,

kidding aside, I wonder what comes next?Major Barber dropped us like hotcakesthe minute we arrived in that Armybomber. Told us to go get breakfast, andhave a look around. Well, we've beendoing that for a couple of hours now. Me,I could do with those further orders hewas talking about."

"Me, too," Freddy said with a nod. "But Ifancy he'll get around to it when he's goodand ready. This isn't the first time we'vebeen kept in the dark as to what thingswere all about."

"Nor will it be the last!" Dave grunted."But I don't blame the Major a bit. In this

war you can tell a secret to the Sphinx,and first thing you know it's all overtown. But that Major Barber is a goodguy. And plenty! Me for him, any day inthe week. I'll wait, if he says so."

"Nice of you," Freddy chuckled. "Youblasted well will, and jolly well like it,too, my fine friend."

"Okay, okay!" Dave growled. "I was onlypointing out—Oh, skip it! What typebomber would you like to go across in,Freddy? There're all makes here."

"Any one of them, it doesn't matter,"Freddy replied, "just so long as it gets meto England, and soon. I say! Have a look

at those two transports coming in to land!They don't plan to ferry those big thingsacross empty, do they? I don't see anystores of equipment laying around herewaiting for transportation across."

Dave didn't reply for a moment. He staredat the two huge Curtiss-built trooptransports that were circling the field andcoming around into the landing wind.

"Those aren't new jobs waiting to beferried places," he grunted after a momentor two. "They've seen service. They'renot right off the factory assembly line.They're—Well, what do you know!"

Dave breathed the last as one of the two

planes touched ground and braked to agentle stop. The fuselage doors openedand U. S. Commando-garbed troopsstarted pouring out. The second transportlanded and started unloading its cargo offighting Commandos. There were forty-five in each plane, complete withequipment, and looking as though theywere ready to land on the French side ofthe English Channel any time the whistlewas blown.

"Which means we're going to havecompany on the ride across, I guess,"Dave spoke again. "Some of the boys whoalso passed Major Barber's little checktest with flying colors. Let's go over and

see if any of them were in training withus. I think I recognize a couple of themfrom here."

"Right you are," Freddy Farmermurmured. "Let's go over and see."

They hadn't taken more than a dozen stepsapiece, however, before a headquartersorderly came running up to them.

"The Field Commandant wants you toreport to his office at once, Captains," theorderly informed them. "It's over there atthat corner of the field."

"I see it, and thanks," Dave answered forboth of them. "On the way, now."

Inside the field office, they found MajorBarber seated with Colonel Stickney,Commandant of the field. He smiled atthem and pointed at a couple of emptychairs.

"Were you beginning to think I hadforgotten about you two?" the Majorasked. "Have a chair, and relax. ColonelStickney, here, will give you your furtherorders."

The two youths seated themselves andlooked respectfully at the FieldCommandant. Colonel Stickney was thekind of a man who brushed formalitiesaside and got right down to brass tacks.

Maybe that's one reason why he was oneof the most able officers in the U. S. ArmyAir forces.

"You two are taking off at ten o'clocktonight," he said. "You're not going acrosswith the ferry bombers or trooptransports, however. I've got twoLockheed P-Thirty-Eights that are waitingto be delivered in England. You'll eachtake one of them. For the crossing extragas tanks have been fitted. As you bothprobably know, we've been ferryingpursuits across, as well as bombers, forseveral weeks now. They fly withoutguns, or ammo, and have extra tanksfitted. You drop the extra tanks into the

sea when you've used up their fuel.Naturally, you switch them in first so's tobe carrying less weight on the last half ofyour trip."

The Colonel paused and stared down athis fingers for a moment or two.

"You saw those two Commandotransports that just sat down?" he asked.Then, without waiting for an answer,"Well, those troops are being carriedacross in the ferry bomber flight that'lltake off before you do. Your P-Thirty-Eights make faster time, of course, so thetake-off times will be set so that you'llcatch up with the flight of ferry bombers a

hundred miles or so this side of Ireland.Obviously, it will be part of your job toescort them along the final lap to Land'sEnd, England."

The Colonel paused again and caught thelook the two youths quickly exchanged.He grinned faintly.

"No, it's not going to be like that in yourcase," he said bluntly. "Your P-Thirty-Eights will be armed to the hilt. I hopeyou won't have to use your guns, though!"

Dave looked at him and leaned forward abit.

"You have reason to believe that we

might, sir?" he asked quietly.

The senior officer shrugged and pluckedat his lower lip.

"No, I haven't," he said after a long pause."Anything can happen in this cockeyedwar, however. As I said, thoseCommando troops you just now sawclimb from those transports are goingacross to the other side by air. It will bethe first time that ferry bombers havetaken troops across in any numbers.Tonight's trip may prove to be thebeginning of transporting troops toEurope by air. To date, and contrary togeneral belief, not one single plane that's

been ferried from here to the other sidehas been lost due to enemy air action.However, as in all things, there has to bea beginning sometime."

Colonel Stickney stopped talking andnodded his head for emphasis.

"The taking of those Commando troopsout there to England has been kept asmuch of a secret as is humanly possible tokeep a secret," he said at length. "Rightnow, not one of them knows that he'sgoing across by bomber tonight. Thatdoesn't mean a thing, though. The Nazismay be women and children killers, butthey are no fools. They're every bit as

smart as we are, and don't let anybody kidyou they aren't. For that reason there is noreason to believe that they haven't foundout about this little thing we're tryingtonight. Fact is, I'm assuming that theyhave found out. That's why you two areacting as escort for the ferry ships. Inshort, in case some Occupied France-based Nazi planes come out to smash upour aerial convoy. If any do, then it willbe up to you to see they don't get to firstbase. You understand?"

Dave nodded, but Freddy Farmer lookedpuzzled.

"Get to first base, sir?" he echoed.

"Where's that base located?"

The other three suppressed their laughter,but they couldn't help smiling at Freddy'sinnocent inquiry.

"An American baseball expression,Farmer," Colonel Stickney explained. "Imean, it's up to you two to see that anyNazi raiding planes don't even get achance to get close enough for action. Getit, now?"

"Oh, quite, and sorry, sir," Freddy said,and blushed.

"Think nothing of it, Farmer," the othersaid kindly. "Yank slang is a language all

its own. Takes time to learn it. And whenyou have, the next generation below youis talking an even different jargon. Butthat's the American kid for you. Well, ifyou've got it all straight, and there are noquestions, I guess that's all I have to say.Are there any questions? You'll be givenflight charts and flight signals to use enroute later, of course."

"All clear to me, sir," Dave spoke up.

"Quite, sir," Freddy Farmer murmured."Can't say I hope you get your wish,though, sir."

"Huh? What's that?" the FieldCommandant demanded.

"I mean, that we won't have to use ourguns," Freddy replied with a smile. "A bitof Nazi action at the end of the trip wouldsuit me fine. Successful action from ourpoint of view, of course."

"Check, and how!" Dave breathed beforehe could stop his tongue.

Colonel Stickney tried to give them thehard eye and stern face, but found it toodifficult.

"Knowing of the air records of you two,"he grunted, "I'm not surprised to hear thatfrom you. Just the same, I hope you don'thave to use your guns, either of you. It'llbe a mighty big responsibility you'll be

flying with tonight, Captains. Don't eitherof you forget that for a single instant!"

"Quite, sir," Freddy said evenly, andthere was no twinkle in his eye now.

"Also, check," Dave grunted, and meantit.

The senior officer glanced at his watchand nodded.

"That's all, then," he said. "Captain Jones,the Field Flight Officer, will show youthe two planes you're to fly. Better lookhim up and test hop the two ships to makesure they're in condition for the oceanhop. And in case I don't see either of you

again, good luck, both here, and on theother side. I'll be keeping my eye on thecommuniqués."

The two youths thanked him, saluted, andwent outside.

"Well, we're going to England," Davesaid when they were alone and walkingalong the edge of the field. "We know thatmuch for sure, anyway."

"Right you are!" Freddy cried happily,and did a little jig to express his feelingsfurther. "Home to dear old England. I canhardly wait...."

"For a pot of that dish water you call tea!"

Dave interrupted with a laugh. "Well,there's the Atlantic out there, pal. You canstart swimming right now, if you want."

"I don't," Freddy snapped. "The blinkingNavy can have the water. I'll take the air.But I wasn't fooling in there, Dave. Ireally do hope we meet up with a coupleof Nazi beggars in Messerschmitts."

"And they call the Germans blood-thirsty!" Dave jeered good-naturedly."What a guy! One minute he's singingsongs of his dear old homeland, and thenext he's saying how he hopes to knockoff a brace of Germans on the way. Youwant everything, don't you?"

"Very much so!" the English-born acecracked at him. "Particularly if it's Nazipilots and observers. I want all I can getof those dirty blighters."

"Well, I guess I'm with you there, pal,"Dave chuckled. "The fewer Germans Ican leave living in this world, the betterI'll like it. Well, let's go hunt up thisCaptain Jones and get a look at those twowinged babies we've got dates withtonight."

CHAPTER FIVE

Dead Man's Wings

A thin pale line of light marked where theeastern horizon met the night sky. Settledcomfortably in the pit of his Lockheed P-Thirty-Eight, Dave Dawson nodded hishead and half raised his free hand in aform of salute.

"Greetings, dawn," he murmured. "Niceto see that you're with us again. Now ifyou'll just brighten up enough to let memake sure that that really is Freddy's

plane off my left wing, then everythingwill be pretty okay."

For a little under six hours he had beendriving the Lockheed across the cold greywaters of the North Atlantic with only thedark of night, the stars, and an occasionalblink of Freddy Farmer's navigation lightsfor companionship. The take-off atBotwood, and the flight up to now, hadbeen totally without incident or accident.Now, though, dawn was coming up in theeast. The light of a new day wasspreading across the face of a war-tornworld. And in time of war no man can tellwhat the new day may bring for himself,or for anybody else, for that matter.

"But we should be overtaking the ferrybombers soon," he grunted the thoughtaloud. "And at least that will besomething to break the monotony. Boy! Isure take my hat off to the ferry pilots.Night after night, tooling planes across toEngland, with nothing to do but sit and lether ride the air. Personally, I'd go nuts.But—Ah, there you are, Freddy, old pal.It really has been you all the time."

He spoke the last as sufficient dawn lightspread up out of the east to permit him agood look at the other P-Thirty-Eight thatwas keeping pace on the left. The two airaces waved to each other, and waggledwings in salute. But neither of them spoke

over the radio, for that was the one fixedrule of ferry flying across the NorthAtlantic. Maintain radio silence at alltimes, and keep it! Too many Nazistations were open and waiting to pick upferry plane radio signals and take a crossbearing on their exact position, and sendout their shore-based long range fightersto reduce the number of planes that wereheading for England.

And so the two youths simply salutedeach other silently, and drew in to closerformation—where they could make facesat each other, and go through the kind ofgestures that only airmen understand.After a few minutes of that long distance

horseplay, however, they tired of it. Andboth of them concentrated on searchingthe brightening skies ahead for their firstglimpse of the bombers being ferriedover. It wasn't long before FreddyFarmer's eagle eyes scored another"first."

Dave saw him waggle his wingsvigorously and point ahead and a bit tothe left. He looked in that direction, andjust when his straining eyes were about tosmart and water he saw the cluster ofblack dots outlined against the light in theeast. He counted them, and heaved a littleimpulsive sigh of relief when theytotalled twenty-one. Twenty-one bombers

had taken off from Botwood. He stared atthe dots, watched them grow larger andtake on their rightful outlines, andwondered in which one Major Barberwas riding. He didn't wonder in whichones the advance contingent ofCommandos was riding, because he knewthat. Every one of the ferry bombers hadsome of the Commandos aboard.

"And it's up to me and Freddy to see thatthey reach England in good shape," hegrunted aloud. "Well, no reason why wecan't see that they do just that. The way Ifeel now, I'm set to tackle a couple ofdozen long range Nazi fighters. AndFreddy must feel the same. So that makes

a total of forty-eight we could take care ofnicely, and I doubt that Goering wouldsend out more than that number. Hold it,kid! Are you trying to get a little vocalcord exercise, or are you trying to proveto yourself you're quite a hot pilot? Whynot shut up and tend to your knitting, andlet come what will come?"

With a tight grin and a nod for emphasis,he continued flying toward the group offerry bombers. Presently he waggled hiswings at Freddy and signalled with hisfree hand. The English youth answeredwith a nod of his head, and the pair tookup escort positions above and to the rearof the twenty-one planes winging down

the home stretch to England.

Some twenty minutes ticked past, andsuddenly Freddy Farmer came swervingin sharply toward Dave's plane. As Davesaw his pal cut in, the back of his neckstarted to tingle, and his heart started topound a little harder against his ribs. Heknew at once the reason for Freddy'ssudden maneuver, but as he swept thedawn-tinted skies ahead with his eyes hewas unable to spot anything to justify it.But that didn't stop the tingling at the backof his neck, nor the increased pounding ofhis heart. Freddy, of course, had sightedenemy aircraft, and that he couldn't seethem didn't mean that Freddy was all wet.

Anyway, he stopped peering at the skiesahead and looked at Freddy swinging into wingtip nearness. Across the shortstretch of air space that separated them hesaw the flush of excitement in Freddy'sface, and he imagined that he could seethe bright, brittle light of battle in his pal'seyes. Freddy had shoved open his"greenhouse" and was sticking an arm upthrough the opening and pointing wildlyahead and a degree or two to the south.

Dave squinted in that direction, andsquinted hard. But all he got for hisefforts was an ache in his eyes. He couldsee absolutely nothing but the advanceglare of the new sun that was racing up

out of the east. True, his imaginationcaused him to "see" all sorts of otherthings. But he had only to brush a handacross his eyes, or blink, and the "otherthings" wouldn't be there any more.

Then, suddenly, he saw them!

Three moving dots, so low down that theywere practically in line with the horizon,and completely backgrounded by theyellowish orange rays of the coming sun.The instant he spotted them he pinnedthem in his vision, and breathlesslywaited for the moment when they wouldtake on sufficient outline for him to telltheir type. On impulse he bent his lips to

the flap mike to ask Freddy the obviousquestion. But he checked himself in time,and spoke not a word. Radio silence hadbeen the order. And radio silence it hadto be, even if the whole darn NaziLuftwaffe was tearing out for a crack atthe ferry bombers.

"They could be R.A.F. planes headed outto give us a hand with the escorting," hemurmured.

Even as he spoke the words, however, heknew that he was simply whistling in thedark. If it had been decided for R.A.F.planes to fly out from England and meetthem, they would have been informed of

that fact before leaving Botwood. No,those three dots weren't R.A.F. planes. Sothere was only one answer. They wereNazi long range fighters, and ColonelStickney's words about GermanIntelligence not being stupid were bearingfruit. Word of this ferry bomber-Commando aerial convoy to England hadreached German ears. And there werethree Nazi planes tearing out to dosomething drastic about it.

For a moment or two Dave took his eyesoff the three dots rushing up out of thedawn light and glanced at the bomberformation prop-clawing toward England.Ice coated his heart, and his throat

became dry and tight. Twenty-onebombers heading for England, unarmed.Twenty-one bombers, each of whichcarried its crew and a certain number ofhighly trained Yank Commandos!

"And it's up to Freddy and me to see thatthey get there!" Dave muttered grimly.

In the next instant a wave of blazing angerswept through him. What did ColonelStickney think Freddy and he were? Awhole confounded fighter squadron? Itwasn't fair to give them complete chargeof such an important aerial convoy. Morefighter pilots should have been sent alongto help them out, just in case. Doggone it!

What did they think Freddy and he were?Cats with nine lives apiece? Darn it...!

The wave of anger vanished just asquickly as it came. A cold calmness tookcharge of Dave, and he deliberatelyreached up his free hand and twisted thering on his electric trigger button to"Fire." Then he turned his head andglanced over at Freddy. A set grin was onthe English youth's face, and as their eyesmet Freddy lifted his right hand with thefingers closed and the thumb stickingstraight up. Dave nodded and returned thethumbs up sign.

"After all, there're only three of them," he

grunted, and switched his gaze back to theadvancing dots. "If Freddy and I can'thandle three of the tramps, then we justdon't belong!"

The dots were no longer dots. They hadtaken on definite shape and outlines. Andthey were as Dave expected them to be,three long range Messerschmitt One-Tens.At that very instant the two wing planesbroke away from the center plane toopposite sides, and took up positions fora three direction attack on the ferrybomber formation. Dave shot out his handand shoved the throttles of the P-Thirty-Eight's Allison engines wide open. Thenhe eased the nose up a hair, and with

Freddy right at his wingtip he wentstreaking up over the ferry bombers andstraight for the center Messerschmitt.

Not a word, of course, had been spokenbetween them. But there was no need forwords. Too often had they tackled threeenemy planes in spread out line formationnot to know exactly what should be done,and to do it instinctively. And so, wingtipto wingtip, they slammed straight at thecenter Messerschmitt as though it werethe only enemy craft in the air, and theywere bent on its immediate destruction.

When they were still a ways from it theyboth opened fire and sliced a shower of

hissing bullets across the sky. If they gotany lucky shots into the centerMesserschmitt, they didn't know. Buthitting it was not their big idea. On thecontrary, they counted on exactly whathappened. The pilot of the centerMesserschmitt didn't like the idea of twoP-Thirty-Eights boring in at him. Hestarted to return the fire, then lost heartand slammed down in a sharp dive.

But even before the German broke awayfrom the fight, Dave and Freddy werecompleting the rest of their maneuver.Like streaks of greased lightning, eachwhirled off to his side and wentthundering in for a broadside attack on the

two other Messerschmitts about to closewith the helpless ferry bomber formation.Maybe the pilots of those two Nazi planesfigured that they had actually remainedhidden in the rays of the dawn sun. Maybethey figured that Dave and Freddy haddecided to make sure of at least onevictim, and pray the other two would missthe bombers and over-shoot and have tocome back. In fact, maybe those Nazipilots figured a lot of things. The point is,though, they figured all wrong. For acouple of moments they had a chance atthe bombers that was as easy as shootingfish in a barrel. But in the next they had acouple of flying wild men on their necks.

The impulse to twist around and see howFreddy was making out with his man wasstrong in Dave as he went cutting in at hisvictim with all guns blazing. Naturally,though, he didn't dare take out even thatsmall amount of time. Even if Freddy andhe got their respective Messerschmittsthere was still a third boiling aroundsome place in the sky. And so he tore insavagely, and thrilled with wild joy as hesaw his tracers cutting into theMesserschmitt from its two spinningprops clear back to the double-finned tail.The Nazi gunner-observer returned hisfire, and the pilot tried to whip aroundand into the clear. For all the good it didhim he might just as well have climbed

out and tried to walk the dawn sky back toGermany.

The Messerschmitt seemed suddenly tofly smack into an invisible brick wall inthe sky. The plane fell off sharply to theright, and came way up by the nose. For abrief instant it hovered there in the air.Then red flame belched out from the twounderslung Benz-Daimler engines, and inthe next split second the whole businesswas just a mass of fire slithering downtoward the rolling grey-green swells ofthe North Atlantic.

"Save a seat for Hitler, where you'regoing!" Dave yelled as he pulled his P-Thirty-Eight up and around. "He'll bejoining you before very long. And—"

The rest died in his throat, and his heartseemed to zoom up and jam against hisback teeth. It was at that moment that hesaw Freddy Farmer's plane flip-floppingand half spinning down out of the sky asthough either it were completely out ofcontrol—or its pilot were dead. Andthundering down with blazing guns afterFreddy were the two otherMesserschmitts.

"No, no, it can't happen!" Dave sobbed

wildly, and whirled off his climb anddown into a dive. "Freddy boy! Whathappened? They didn't get you! Theydidn't get you!"

Those and other words of anguish spilledoff his lips as he hammered his Lockheeddown in a wing-screaming dive. So greatwas his excitement, and so great the terrorthat clutched at his heart, he failed to seethat Nazi bullets weren't coming veryclose to Freddy's plane. As a matter offact, the Germans were shooting half-heartedly. With the Lockheed headedstraight for the North Atlantic, theyfigured that the finish of their victim wasinevitable.

But they hadn't figured on Dave, nor theterrific diving speed of his plane. As aresult the "fun" for one of them was short-lived. Though his heart shed tears ofblood for Freddy Farmer, Dave's grip onthe controls was rock steady, and his eyeto the ring sight keen and sharp. A twosecond burst from his guns was all thatwas needed. A longer burst would havebeen sheer waste of ammunition. TheNazi's wing came off as though hackedclean by a knife. What was left spun likeso much stiff paper tossed into awhirlpool, and then broke up in a showerof flying wreckage.

One Nazi less, but what of it? Freddy was

but a couple of hundred feet from thewater now, and still flip-floppinghelplessly downward with the remainingGerman pecking away at him. Starkreality was like white hot knives twistingabout in Dave's heart and in his brain.Tears flooded his eyes, and heunconsciously hammered his free fistagainst the already wide open throttles.

"Dear God, please no!" he sobbed. "Don'ttake Freddy. Don't take Freddy away. Ineed him! England needs him. The wholedecent part of the world needs him.Please don't...!"

Dave never finished the last, for at that

exact instant a miracle seemed to takeplace right before his startled eyes.Freddy Farmer's plane stopped flip-flopping and spinning around abruptly. Asthough someone had reached down andstopped it, the Lockheed came up ontoeven keel. But it did much more than that!It came up past even keel and on up into apower zoom. Its guns yammered outsound and flame, and perhaps for theinfinitesimal part of a split second thepilot of the third and last Messerschmittwas the most stunned and bewildered manin the whole wide world.

But only for that flash of time. Inpractically nothing flat he was no longer

capable of thought, and less of action. Hewas just a dead man hunched over thecontrols of a diving plane—that is, thebullet-shattered wreckage of a divingplane. Before he had had the chance toblink or move a muscle, Freddy Farmerhad pinned him cold to the dawn sky.And, not a little bewildered himself,Dave saw the Messerschmitt fall apart inmid-air, and Freddy Farmer, grinningfrom ear to ear, come tearing up past himand level off the top of his zoom.Automatically, Dave pulled up out of hisown dive and swung around to joinFreddy Farmer. The English-born air acewas still grinning, and he was holding upone hand, forming an "O" with thumb and

forefinger, and extending the other threestraight upward. Dave gaped at him amoment longer, and then shook his head todrive the cobwebs and mist away.

"So, just another Freddy Farmer trick!" hegrowled, and shook a fist at the Englishyouth. "I might have known that you weresimply slipping out of a tight jam. And tothink I was beginning to pray for you—you bum!"

Freddy, of course, didn't hear the words,but he saw Dave's moving lips, andprobably guessed what they were saying.His mouth opened in silent laughter, andhe made a gesture with one hand, which

was just the same as his lips saying:

"Weren't getting worried, were you, oldchap?"

CHAPTER SIX

Nazi Wrath

Like so many huge birds of prey cominghome to roost, the twenty-one ferrybombers slid down to a landing on theR.A.F. field at Land's End at thesouthwest tip of England, and wenttrundling over to the tarmac line and thewaiting mechanics. When the last hadtouched earth, Dave and Freddy cut theirthrottles and slid down also. They landedtogether and taxied that way up to the line.When he reached it Dave cut his ignition,

climbed out and hurried stiff-legged overto Freddy's plane.

"What was the big idea of giving me sucha case of heart failure?" he demanded ofhis pal. "Holy smoke! That little businesstook fifteen years off my life, if it took aday. In future, don't do that to me, see?"

Freddy legged down and pulled off hishelmet and goggles.

"You think I was just having sport?" hesnorted. "Far from it, my lad. I missed myman completely. A blasted good pilot hewas, too. Next thing I knew two of themhad me all wrapped up and were ready tosend me some place I had no fancy to go

to. Much, much too close for comfort, sothe only thing I could do was fake beinghit and spin the bus downward. That atleast threw off their aim a bit. And when Ipulled out and up in the last second, theywere—"

Freddy paused and grinned broadly.

"Well, the remaining blighter was toosurprised to do anything about stoppingme," he said. "But thanks for taking careof that other beggar. I might not havesurprised both of them. Fact is, I fancyyou saved my life again, old thing. I'mgrateful."

"You should get tossed in the duck pond

for giving me such a scare!" Davegrowled, but softened it with a grin."Well, here's England. Aren't you going todrop down and kiss the ground, orsomething? This is England, Freddy!"

The English youth smiled, and there werestars in his eyes.

"Yes, England again," he whisperedsoftly. "How wonderful to return to itfrom uncivilized lands where they eat rawthings and call them hot dogs, and talkthrough their teeth, and drive ninety milesan hour even to funerals! Yes, blessedEngland! It's like being reborn. Like—like—"

"Like waking up from a beautiful dream!"Dave snapped, and waved a hand at thesky that was now overcast. "See? No sunover here! And just thirty minutes offshore we had plenty of it. What have theweather gods got against you Englishguys, anyway?"

Freddy didn't have time to think up akidding come-back for that one. They bothturned at the sound of footsteps behindthem, and saw Major Barber hurryingover toward them. The Commando Chiefwas grinning from ear to ear, and helooked as if he wanted to hug and kissthem both. He didn't, however. Instead, hegrabbed each in turn by the hand and

nearly shook his arm off at the shouldersocket.

"I hope some day it will be my chance toreturn that little favor of life saving!" hecried. "And that goes for everybodyaboard the ferry bombers. I had a frontseat, and what you two did sure wassomething to see. You seemed to have alittle trouble, Farmer. Hey! You didn't getwounded, did you?"

"Him?" Dave snorted before Freddycould even shake his head. "The Nazishaven't made that bullet yet. No, sir. Hejust wanted to show you how fancy hecould get when there're Messerschmitts

around. I've just been telling him that if hepulls that on me again, I'll probably shoothim down myself. But it was pretty cute,wasn't it, Major? He should be given hiswings any day now, I say. Practically afighter pilot."

"Don't mind Dawson, sir," Freddy spokeup. "He's always that way. Pretty cool ina fight, but when it's all over he simplygoes to pieces and says the craziestthings. No, I wasn't hit, fortunately. I hada close call, though, and had to do a littlesomething extra to get out of it. We're allhere, though. And that's that!"

"And it's plenty!" Major Barber said with

a grim nod. "It proves this sort of thingcan be done on a large scale. That is—"

The Major paused and grinned.

"That is, if we have fellows like you twoalong," he added. "Well, stick around fora bit, will you? I've got things to do, but Iwant to talk to you again. There's the messshack over there. I guess it won't makeeither of you mad to take aboard somebreakfast, huh?"

"Oh, quite, quite!" Dave mimicked atFreddy. "And, of course, a pot of tea,what, old tin of fruit?"

Freddy Farmer groaned and shook his

head, and looked helplessly at MajorBarber.

"It's so utterly useless and futile, sir!" hesighed. "I mean the way Dawson murdersthe King's English. Something reallyshould be done about it. Would yousuggest gagging him, sir?"

If the Major replied, nobody heard it. Atthat moment the air raid siren mountedatop the Operations Office let forth withits blood-curdling wail. Without thinking,both Dave and Freddy spun around anddived for their planes. In nothing flat theywere in the pits and rocketing their shipsacross the field. As Dave pulled his clear

and went twisting around and upward, hesnapped out of his action trance longenough to look at the fuel gauge. A sigh ofrelief spilled from his lips when he sawthat he still had enough high octane forthirty-five minutes of flying.

"And lots of things can happen in thirty-five minutes!" he shouted aloud.

"Quite!" came the sudden and startlingvoice of Freddy Farmer over the radio."And there are the blighters! Off there tothe southeast. Fancy they got annoyedwhen they learned the bombers gotthrough, and decided to have a go at aground strafe. Tally-ho, Dave! And

there's the R.A.F. chaps coming up to joinin the fun. But we'll get first cracks at thebeggars."

"Sure, but remember about last time!"Dave shouted back at him. "No funnybusiness. Get your man this time, and nofooling around. Okay, kid! Up and at'em!"

As Dave snouted the last he lifted thenose to a steeper angle, and went wing-screaming up toward a group of ten Nazilong range fighters that were bearingdown on the Land's End field. Twisting inthe seat, he glanced down back at theswarm of R.A.F. Spitfires and Hurricanes

that were racing up off the field. Apleasant warmth surged through his body,and there was a glad song in his heart.

"Just like the old days!" he cried happily."Flying with the dear old R.A.F. again.Yeah, good! Plenty good!"

As though to echo his words, he heardFreddy Farmer's guns blast away. Theleading Nazi plane swerved, thendropped by the nose and started downwith one engine smoking badly. Davegrunted and ruddered his P-Thirty-Eight alittle to bring his sights to bear on anotherNazi plane.

"Okay, first blood for you, Freddy!" he

sang out. "But it's my turn, now, andhow!"

His words were no crazy boast. Theywere simply a statement of cold fact. Andas his guns started hammering out made-in-America doom, his statement wasproved. A second Nazi would-be groundstrafer seemed to jump straight up in theair. That is, the fuselage went upward.The wings remained at the lower level fora moment, then went slip-sliding away.The fuselage fell over by the nose andwent down like a bomb as two objectspopped out of it and soon became a pairof Germans going down by parachute.

The swift double kill obviously tooksome of the lust for battle away from theother Nazi pilots. The formation swervedthis way and that, and then broke up intopairs that made half-hearted passes at theferry bomber-covered field below. Butthey all should have stayed home. By thenthe pilots of the locally based R.A.F.squadrons were in the scrap, and theirarrival just about settled things for theGermans. A couple of them did lingeraround a little longer, but that was verystupid of them. They went down likenailed clay pigeons, while their pals wentstreaking back across the Channel to theirtemporary homes in Occupied France.

When Dave and Freddy came down out ofthe air and landed, an orderly waswaiting for them.

"Group Captain Farnsworth wishes to seeyou two officers at once," he told them.

"Guess breakfast waits, pal." Davegrinned at Freddy. "Let's go. I guessMajor Barber is with the Group Captain.I don't see him around any place. Somaybe this is it."

"Maybe, but I wouldn't be too sure,"Freddy murmured.

Dave looked at him sharply.

"What do you mean by that?" hedemanded.

"Nothing, I hope," the English youthgrunted. "But I believe I've heard ofGroup Captain Farnsworth. Very much ofa stickler for rules and regulations. And—well, after all, this is an R.A.F. field,you know."

"So what?" Dave demanded as he stared,puzzle-eyed. "What's that got to do withit? Hey! What's eating you, anyway?"

Freddy shrugged and started walkingtoward the Field Commandant's office.

"Let's go and find out," he said. "I could

be wrong, of course."

"You could be nuts!" Dave growled, stillmystified. "And I think you are!"

The English youth let that one slide. Hesimply hunched his shoulders once andwalked with Dave over toward the office.They reached it in time, knocked, andwent inside when a rasping voice toldthem to do so. Seated at the desk insidewas a heavy-browed, red-headed man inan R.A.F. Group Captain's uniform. Thedecoration ribbons under his R.A.F.wings showed that this was not the firstwar he had fought in. And they alsoshowed that he had not exactly kept his

feet on solid earth all the time in eitherwar. But his eyes were his outstandingfeature. They were like frosted cubes ofice that seemed to melt everything thatcame into their range of vision. Davelooked into those eyes and gulped a little.

"Captains Dawson and Farmer reporting,sir," he heard his own voice say. "Youwished to see us, sir?"

"Blasted right I do!" the words camesmashing at him. "Just who the ruddy blueblazes do you think you two are? A littlespecial air force all your own?"

CHAPTER SEVEN

More Orders

Dave was filled with the sudden desire tohave the office floor open up and permithim to drop down through out of sight.Those frosted ice cube eyes pinned him inhis tracks, and held his own like powerfulmagnets. He couldn't have turned his headto see Freddy's face if he had wanted to.He gulped and moistened his tongue.

"I beg your pardon, sir?" he managed. "I—"

"Never mind begging my pardon!" theowner of the frosted eyes flung at him."Just answer my question. Who the devildo you two think you are? Who gave youpermission to take off from this field andengage enemy aircraft?"

Dave was too stunned even to begin tothink up an answer. Instead, he listened toFreddy Farmer speak for them both.

"I'm afraid we didn't stop to think, sir,"the English youth said. "When we heardthe alarm siren we simply jumped for ourplanes. It was like that. I realize weshouldn't have, sir. But—well, I was inthe air by that time. And it seemed the

right thing to keep on and have a go at theJerry ships. I'm sorry, sir. We're bothsorry, sir."

A touch of sudden anger slashed throughDave, and the words were out of hismouth before he could check them.

"I'm not, sir!" he cried. "I'm never sorrywhen I get a Nazi, no matter how orwhere I get him. We saw them coming,and it was our job to do something aboutit. That's all there was to it!"

The Group Captain stared at Dave andmade a solid line with his brows.

"Not sorry?" he barked. "Who said

anything about not being sorry? I demand,however, that you apologize to me, and tomy fighter pilots!"

"Apologize?" Dave gasped, as he seemedto lose his grip on things. "For what? Forknocking off a couple of Jerry planes, forcat's sake?"

The senior officer looked sterner thanever; then the ghost of a smile quivered atthe corners of his mouth.

"Certainly, Captain Dawson," he saidwithout so much bite in his voice. "This isour hunting ground. And goodness knowstoo few Jerries come over our way tomake us eager to share them with a couple

of wild flying mad-men. So you both oweus an apology for poaching on our gamegrounds. But we'll take the apologies forgranted. Sit down, you two. You deservea chair at least, I fancy."

Dave came close to missing his chair, hewas so surprised and relieved. He lookedat the now grinning Group Captain and lethis breath out slowly.

"Gosh, sir," he gulped, "I thought youmeant it there for a minute."

"I still do!" the other said with a nod anda chuckle. "It wasn't fair of you, at all.According to Major Barber you had yourair sport earlier this morning. Not cricket,

you know, to horn in on our doings.Congratulations, nevertheless. Fact is,those blighters might have done a bit ofdamage if you hadn't got at them so soon.My chaps must have been taking cat naps.Well, Farmer? Glad to be back inEngland?"

"Very much so, sir," Freddy replied, andbeamed all over his face. "One of thehappiest moments of my life."

For a brief instant shadows crossed theGroup Captain's face, and he lookedgrave and filled with concern.

"I hope there will be many more, equallyhappy, Farmer," he said presently. "No.

Never mind the questions. I have no ideawhat's in store for you two. But I certainlyknow you were not brought back overhere just to have a spot of leave. You'lldoubtless learn soon enough, though.Meantime, I'd better get on with my partof the business—that is, give you theinstructions Major Barber left with me."

"Left!" Dave gulped. "You mean, sir, theMajor has gone?"

"Quite," the other replied with a nod."While you two were stealing Jerryplanes from us. I believe he had intendedto remain awhile, but a call for him camethrough from your American

Headquarters in London. I detailed him aplane, and a pilot to fly him up there."

"And he left orders for us, you say, sir?"Freddy Farmer prompted respectfully.

"Quite correct," the senior officer toldhim. "You are to remain here until you'vehad a bit of breakfast and some rest. ThenI'm to detail you a two-seater plane. It'sas if I were running a blasted aerial taxicompany, or something. Anyway,sometime today, when it suits yourcollective fancy, you are to fly to theLewes Base, on the South Downs, andreport to the commanding officer.Squadron Leader Parkinson is his name.

He has a Spitfire squadron. A fine bunchof lads, too. You'll like them all, I'm sure.Well, there're your orders as MajorBarber left them with me. Now, howabout a spot of food, eh?"

Dave didn't move. He acted as though hehad not heard the question. He simply satstaring puzzle-eyed at the Group Captain.

"Report to a fighter squadron, sir?" hemurmured presently. "You mean we'reback in the R.A.F. again?"

"I don't mean anything of the sort," thesenior officer replied with a little gesture,"for the reason that I have no ideawhatsoever. That's truth, really. I simply

know that you are to report to SquadronLeader Parkinson's base. What happensafter that, I haven't the faintest idea."

"A bit queer and very hush-hush, for fair,"Freddy Farmer grunted, and scowled atthe opposite wall.

"That's the blasted war for you," theGroup Captain chuckled. "Nothing meansvery much until after it's happened.However, much as the R.A.F. would liketo have you back in its membership, I donot believe that is to be in your case. As Isaid, or should have said, neither of youwas brought back to England for anythingof the usual sort. A blind bloke can see

that it's for some very important reason.And certainly most secretive, too."

"You're telling us?" Dave groaned,forgetful for the moment of the other'ssenior rank. "It's plenty secret, and how!Freddy and I have been guessing ourheads off since the start of this business,and neither of us can come up withanything that even seems close!"

"Phew, yes!" Freddy breathed heavily."We Britishers are very good at the hush-hush business, but the Yanks are certainlygoing us one better this time. And if Idon't get some kind of an inkling soon, I'llbe going balmy."

"Well, I wish I could help you out, but Ican't," the Group Captain said with asympathetic laugh. "Sometimes, though,it's best not to know what one's in for—until it happens."

The somber note in the other's voice senta little icy chill rippling through Dave.True enough, Freddy and he certainlyhadn't come over to England just to have agood time. They had come over to takepart in some Commando operation. Thatmuch Major Barber had admitted. But—and it was a big but—he had said theywere to handle an extra, a very specialjob. What job? What kind of a job?Unfortunately, there just wasn't any

answer to that one. The answer would betheirs—in the near future. Perhaps!

"I get what you mean, sir," Dave said tothe Group Captain with a faint grin. "Andmaybe you're right, sir. But—well, justthe same I don't go much for this sitting onpins and needles stuff. I think I'd ratherknow, and get my worrying over withfirst. As you say, though, that's war."

"Quite," the senior officer grunted, andgot up from his chair. "So let's leave it atthat, what, and have a bite to eat?"

"Absolutely, sir!" Freddy cried, springingto his feet. "No sense fighting a war on anempty stomach, if you don't have to."

"Just name one time when yours wasempty," Dave laughed.

"Right now!" the English youth snapped,and gave him a scornful look.

They followed the Group Captain out andover to the officers' mess. There they atetheir fill, and when the senior officer hadtaken his departure they went outside andstarted wandering around the field. Theirlegs were still a little stiff from theAtlantic crossing, so a little exercisewouldn't do either of them any harm. Atthe end of an hour or so they had hadenough. They hunted up a hutment orderly,and were shown a couple of bunks where

they could catch up on a little muchneeded sleep and rest.

It was late in the afternoon when theorderly awakened them. He told them thatthere had been two raid alarms soundedwhile they had been asleep. However, noJerry planes had put in an appearance.

"The Commandant told me to find outwhen you would be taking off, Captains,"the orderly added later. "There're twoSpitfires just ferried here from thefactory, waiting on the tarmac. TheCommandant says as how he would likeyou to deliver them to the squadron you'regoing to. Shall I have them revved up?"

Dave dug sleep seeds out of his eyes andlooked at Freddy. His pal did likewise,and nodded.

"Might as well," he grunted. "There'snothing more to be learned here. Mightjust as well get on with it."

"Check," Dave said, and turned to theorderly. "Do that, will you, and thanks."

Half an hour later the two air aces wereout on the tarmac, and ready to leave.They were about to climb into theirSpitfires when Group Captain Farnsworthcame over to them.

"Just wanted to say goodbye," he smiled,

"and wish you all kinds of luck."

"Thank you, sir," Dave grinned. "Andwe're sorry about those two Jerry planes.I promise that next time we won't be soselfish."

"Oh, quite!" Freddy Farmer echoed.

The Group Captain chuckled and made alittle gesture with both hands.

"That's quite all right, chaps," he said."All is forgiven, I assure you. Frankly,next time—if there is one—I hope you getdouble the number of blighters. Well,goodbye. Thumbs up, and all that sort ofthing. I certainly envy you."

Dave shot him a sharp questioning look,but the Group Captain shook his headfirmly.

"No, I really don't know a thing,Dawson," he said. "On my word, I don't.I'm just imagining, that's all. And there'sblessed little else a Group Captain can doin this crazy war. Well, on with it, youchaps. And luck, again."

Dave and Freddy thanked him for hisgood wishes, shook hands, and thenlegged up into the pits of their Spitfires.They taxied out to the far end of the mainrunway, and waited there with propsidling over for the signal from the

Operations Tower. It came, and theygunned their engines together and wentrocketing forward.

"Well, here goes for the next stop," Davegrunted as he lifted his Spitfire clear, andnosed up and around toward the overcastsky. "And I sure would like to know whatis the next move in this cockeyedarrangement of things?"

He spoke the question aloud, but the godsof war in their high places refused toanswer. They simply nudged each other,grinned, and winked.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Sudden Chaos

"This is getting me down, and giving me asweet pain in the neck!" Dave groaned,and rolled over on the grass. "Do youthink that Major Barber has forgotten us?"

Freddy Farmer opened his eyes just toshow that he was awake, and sighedcontentedly.

"Does it really matter?" he murmured."Personally, this suits me quite nicely,thank you."

Dave scowled and contemplated jabbingFreddy in the ribs. But his pal looked soperfectly relaxed that he didn't have theheart to. So he simply deepened hisscowl.

"Fine guy, you are!" he growled. "A weekago you were as keen as mustard aboutwhat Major Barber cooked up for us. Andnow? Now you're just a lazy bum!"

Freddy opened one eye and glared.

"That's a downright lie, my good man!" hesnapped. "I got a Messerschmitt One-Nine yesterday, didn't I? And one of thosenew Focke-Wulf One-Nineties the daybefore? What more do you want?"

"Action!" Dave grunted, and staredbrooding-eyed at the row of Spitfires onthe near side of the field. "I admit it'sswell to be serving with an R.A.F. fightersquadron again. It's okay, but—but,doggone it, we didn't come way over herefor this! Even Group Captain Farnsworthagreed with that. But it's been a wholeweek now since we arrived here. I'mbeginning not to know what to think, orhope."

"Then don't do either," Freddycommented sleepily. "Terrible strain onthe brain, you know. Must confess,though, I've been wondering a littlemyself, in odd moments. Does seem a bit

queer we haven't heard from MajorBarber. Could be that the whole show,whatever it was, was called off."

"There you go!" Dave groaned. "Alwaystaking the joy out of life. Me, I've almosttalked myself into getting in touch withMajor Barber and finding out what'swhat."

"I wouldn't," Freddy cautioned."Doubtless you'd be told off quiteproperly. The Major struck me as that sortof a chap. If and when he wants us, we'llbe sure to hear about it, I fancy."

Dave groaned again and sat up straight. Astrong feeling of having been cheated out

of something was gnawing at him. Heknew that he shouldn't feel that way. As amember of an R.A.F. fighter squadron itwas his job to concentrate solely on hiswork, and let all other things go hang. Asoldier must be all soldier no matter whathis duty, or where he had to perform it.

Yes, sure. That was all very well. But toomany intangible things had happened tolet his mind stay at rest, and his attentionto stick to the daily sweeps across theChannel to Occupied France that he tookpart in. There had been something big,very big, in the wind. Was it still so? Orhad that sleepy Freddy Farmer spoken thetruth about the whole business having

been called off? It was a tantalizingthought, like a termite in his brain. Andthe galling part of it all was that therereally wasn't a single thing that he coulddo about it, or should do about it, if hehad any sense. Start fishing around MajorBarber and he might end up by gettingbounced back to the States. It was for himsimply to—

The rest was cut off short as the raidalarm rang in the Operations Hut. He andFreddy sprang to their feet as one man,and went tearing over. The rest of thepilots on "stand to alert" reached there atthe same time. Squadron LeaderParkinson stuck his head out the door, and

barked the orders.

"Five Heinkels sighted coming across!Twenty thousand. Course, north-northwest. Get after the beggars!"

Dave and Freddy wheeled with the othersto dash for their planes, but stopped shortas the Squadron Leader called them bothback.

"Not you two chaps, this time," he toldthem. "Just received other orders for you.Buzz over to Horsham Commando H.Q.Take one of the squadron cars. You're toreport to a Yank Major. Barber is thename. Better hop along at once. Hesounded urgent over the phone. Glad to

have had you with us for the short spell.Luck, chaps!"

The Squadron Leader ducked back insideto continue with his raid alarm duties.Dave and Freddy just looked at eachother, then spun around and tore over tothe motor park. They were expected, forthe Corporal in charge pointed out a fastR.A.F. Daimler, and swung open the gatesfor them. Dave dived in beside the wheel,waited just long enough for Freddy tolight beside him, and then kicked theengine into life and slipped it into gear.Three minutes later they were on thewinding dirt road that eventually finishedup in the Southeast English town of

Horsham.

"Hot dog!" Dave cried happily, andboosted the speed up another ten miles. "Iguess this is really it, this time, pal!"

"It won't be, if you hit a tree!" Freddycried, and grabbed for a strong hold asDave took the next turn. "Be careful andstop playing speed demon. Five or tenminutes longer won't make anydifference!"

"Will to me!" Dave laughed, and held hisspeed rate. "Can't wait to find out whatthe Major has to say to us. Gosh! And Iwas beginning to think—! Oh well!Everything is wonderful, now. So why

bother with the past?"

"Quite!" Freddy snapped sarcastically."Blast to the past. Just concentrate on thiswinding road, if you possibly can. I've gotenough grey hairs, as it is."

"What do you think it'll be, Freddy?"Dave asked, ignoring his last remark. "Imean, what do you think he'll have to sayto us?"

"Haven't the faintest idea," the English airace replied. "But I have a feeling it won'tbe all sugar and honey. Everybody's beentoo deep down serious about things to suitmy fancy. Particularly the Major'sreference to the little extra job for us.

We've been detailed little extra jobsbefore. Only they weren't little!"

"So what?" Dave laughed. "Wouldn't begetting the wind up, would you, pal?"

"Certainly!" Freddy threw at him. "Andyour gay eagerness doesn't fool me a bit.You're a little jittery inside yourself."

"And how!" Dave agreed instantly. "Theheart's got a swell case of jitters, if youmust know. Always like that when thingsare mysterious and unexplained. But waris no pink tea, hey, Freddy?"

"Not a bit of it!" the English youth repliedwith feeling. "Our job, though, is to do the

best we can—while we can."

"Atta boy!" Dave cried, and took a handoff the wheel to press his friend's knee."The old fight, always. You're making mefeel better, now. Bring on your mysteriousassignment! What do Farmer and Dawsoncare?"

"I'd hate to tell you," Freddy grunted, andlapsed into brooding silence.

In another few minutes the car streakedover the crest of the last hill, and downthere in the shallow valley was the townof Horsham. At first glance it was nothingbut another town, like any one ofthousands of English towns. But on

second glance Dave spotted lots of littlethings that made Horsham just a bitdifferent. Man-made things, to be exact.Woods completely surrounded the town,only not all were woods. Mostly it wasperfect camouflaging that concealed fromprying Nazi eyes flying above thetremendous amount of activity that wastaking place.

It concealed the row upon row ofCommando tents. It hid the various groupsof Commandos going through attackpreparations and practice. It concealedthe long lines of motor trucks that wouldcarry them to embarkation points. Itconcealed a countless number of things.

But on second glance Dave saw quite abit of what was hidden, and his heartstarted hammering against his ribs, andthe blood surging through his veins. Ifthere was a last stop before the greatadventure, whatever it was, Horshammust certainly be it.

Fully convinced of that fact, Dave easedoff the Daimler's speed a bit, and wentdown the slanting road and into the town.They had to stop to ask the location ofH.Q., but after that they found it with notrouble at all. It was located in apicturesque two story grey stone house onthe far side of the town. An armed sentrycame forward as Dave braked the car to a

halt. He learned their identities, told themto wait, and went inside. He was outagain in less time than it takes to tellabout it.

"You are to go in, at once," he said, andsaluted with his rifle at present arms.

Dave and Freddy climbed down out of theDaimler, and went up the stone steps intothe house. A sentry stationed insidepointed at the open door to the right. Theystepped through it and snappily salutedMajor Barber, who sat half hidden behinda huge desk piled high with maps andwhat not. He smiled and rose to greetthem.

"Leave any rubber on those tires?" heasked, glancing at his wrist watch. "Youcertainly got over here fast. You weredriving, weren't you, Dawson?"

Dave grinned and went pink.

"Guilty, sir," he said. "But I was in ahurry. For a whole week, now—"

"I know," the Major stopped him. "Butwars aren't won in a day. I suspectedyou'd be wondering yourselves sick, butthere were other things to take care offirst. Sit down, though. Sit down andrelax. It's time you learned a few thingsabout when the balloon goes up."

Dave and Freddy seated themselves inchairs, but neither of them relaxed even alittle bit. They sat on the edges of theirchairs, and fixed their gaze unwaveringlyon the U. S. Commando Chief. He letthem sit in tingling silence a moment ortwo while he seemed to collect histhoughts and choose his words.Eventually, he leaned forward on the edgeof his desk with his elbows, and lockedthe fingers of his two hands together. Hespoke quietly, but there was a firmness tohis voice that sent Dave's heart beatmounting upward.

"Tomorrow night we are making acombined United Nations Commando raid

on a section of France which, if it ispulled off successfully, will leave theNazis hanging on the ropes for quite sometime to come. In fact, there is everypossibility, and hope, that this raid willopen the door wide for a general UnitedNations invasion of the Continent."

The Major paused abruptly, and staredhard at Dave and then at Freddy.

"The attacking force," he continued amoment later, "will total close to fifteenthousand men. They will be men andofficers from every branch of the services—air, land, and sea. The objectives to beaimed at total three times the number

aimed at, and reached, in the combinedDieppe raid a short time ago. As a matterof fact, it has been all that's happenedsince the Dieppe raid that prompts us tolaunch this biggest one of all. The Diepperaid scared Hitler silly, and his Generals,too. Shortly after the Dieppe raid largereenforcements were withdrawn fromother active fronts and rushed to theFrench coast area. Naturally, UnitedNations Intelligence here and in Francehas given us complete details on themoves Hitler has made since Dieppe. Onemove is proof positive of how the Diepperaid really affected him. Field Marshalvon Staube, of the Army, and LuftwaffeMarshal von Gault, of the Air Force, are

now in complete charge of operations inthe Occupied France coastal zones."

The senior officer paused again, andDave caught his breath in astonishment atthe news. Von Staube and von Gault? Ifthere were two men in all the Third Reichresponsible for Adolf Hitler's blood-shedding successes across bowedEurope, those two were the ones. VonStaube and von Gault! The former thebrains of the Army. The latter the brainsof the Luftwaffe. Oh yes, and quite true!Their names seldom appeared innewsprint, or over the Berlin radio. Othernames were featured. Other figureheadssuch as "Uncle" Goering received the

publicity, and the praise for everytriumph, big or small. But it was vonStaube and von Gault who had madeeverything possible. And if they had beentransferred to France—

"Then Hitler sure is worried, plentyworried!" Dave heard himself speak thethought aloud.

"No doubt about it!" Freddy Farmerechoed. Then, addressing the Major, heasked, "There is absolute proof of this,sir?"

"Absolute proof!" the senior officerreplied emphatically, and picked up asmall photo off the desk top and held it

out. "Take a look. Taken the day beforeyesterday, and smuggled across to us. Theuniforms will tell you which is which, incase you've never seen their picturesbefore."

It was a picture of two high rankingGerman officers standing beside therunning board of a German Staff car, andobviously in deep conversation. Thepicture was not any too clear, because ithad been taken at a distance with a longrange lens. But it was clear enough forDave and Freddy to recognize, from otherpictures they had seen, the thin, cruel,hawkish face of Luftwaffe Marshal vonGault, and the beefy, moon-faced, thick-

necked figure of Field Marshal vonStaube. Dave handed the photo backwithout comment. But Freddy had anotherquestion.

"It was taken in Occupied France, sir?"he asked.

The Major held the photo up and pointedout the spire of a church that was faintlyvisible in the background. Part of it wasmissing as the result of an explodingshell.

"That's the church in the little village ofEvaux," he said, "across the Seine Riverfrom Rouen. I recognize it, because I'vebeen there many times since that shell

struck. Matter of fact, I happened to seethat shell do its work. It was a weekbefore Dunkirk. No, don't worry. Thatpicture was taken in Occupied France.And those buildings in back of them, buton this side of the church, are theircombined Headquarters."

The Major nodded slightly for emphasis,and dropped the photo on the desk.

"A force of fifteen thousand men," he saida moment later. "Navy men, army men,and airmen. The time schedule has beenworked out to the last split second. Andthe schedule has been checked andrechecked, I might add. At the first show

of darkness tomorrow evening, navyvessels will take aboard the groundforces, at designated points along thesouth coast here. At the right moment theships will put out into the Channel andproceed toward the French coast. At adesignated time bomber flights will goover and blast all strong points for athirty-five mile radius about the Frenchcoastal city of Le Havre. Le Havre willbe the pivoting point of the entire raid.All operations will fan out north, south,and east from Le Havre.

"Fighter squadrons, of course, will goacross to keep a protective cover over thebombers against Nazi night fighters—if

any are able to get off and come up atthem. Fighter squadrons will also protecttransport planes filled with CommandoPara-troops. Needless to say, each unit inthe attack has its own time schedule, thatdovetails in with the general schedule forthe raid. And each unit, whether land, sea,or air, has its own individual objective totake and hold, or, as in many cases, totake and completely destroy. Clockworkis the keynote to the whole thing. Everyman knows just what he is supposed todo, and what he's supposed not to do,incidentally. There will be losses, heavylosses, probably. But our losses will benothing to what the Nazis will lose in manpower, war materials—and morale!"

The Major paused for breath, and to thinkover his next words. It was all Davecould do to stop from squirming about onthe edge of his chair. A hundred questionsquivered on the tip of his tongue. But hehad just enough sense to remain silent andbide his time. Soon enough the Majorwould tell Freddy and him what fighterflight they were to fly in. As a matter offact, that bit of information was the nextthing that came from the Yank CommandoChief's lips.

"You will go over with the squadron withwhich you are now stationed," he said."The Two Hundred and Third Fighters,with Squadron Leader Parkinson in

charge. That unit will go over as part ofthe cover for the Commando Para-troops.Parkinson will be supplied with his owntime schedule, and will, of course,acquaint you with all those details later.Well, there you are. That's the generalpicture of the little surprise we'll have forAdolf Hitler tomorrow night. And if itcomes off as we have planned, and as itmust come off, this world will be a muchbetter place to live in much sooner thanmost people expect. The Nazi high lords,in particular!"

As Major Barber seemed to pause for thelast time, and leaned back in his chair,Dave was thrilling to the thought of so

gigantic a raid, and such a devastatingblow against the barbaric forces strivingto conquer the civilized world. At thesame time there was a certain feeling offrustration within him, a feeling of keendisappointment. It was as though he hadbeen built up for a terrific let-down. Hesneaked a glance at Freddy's face andcould instantly tell from the expression hesaw there that Freddy was not exactly onehundred per cent pleased himself. Davehesitated a moment, and then took the bullby the horns.

"It should be something, and how, sir!" hesaid enthusiastically. "But back in NewYork, you mentioned something about a

little extra job for Freddy and me. Youstill have one?"

Major Barber grinned and leaned forwardagain.

"I was wondering if you had forgotten thatbit," he said with a chuckle. "Yes, there'sstill a little extra job for you two. Butlittle is hardly the word. Your fighterplane unit will go as far inland as thevillage of Salernes, just north of Rouen.That's where your bunch of CommandoPara-troops will step off, and go down.But you will not return to this side withthe Two Hundred and Third Spitfires.You two will bear south and across the

Seine to Evaux."

"Evaux?" Dave echoed, and gulped. "Andwhen we get there?"

There was no grin on the Major's lipsnow. Neither was there a smile in hiseyes.

"When you get there," he said in a calm,steady voice, "you will kidnap vonStaube and von Gault and fly them backhere to England. That is the little extrajob that has been selected for you two tocarry out. Think you'll like it, eh?"

For all the gold in the world Davecouldn't have spoken a single word at that

moment. His head had seemed to fly upoff his shoulders and go floating away.The rest of him was frozen to his chair assolid as Arctic ice. It was impossible forhim to move, and doubly so for him tothink. Kidnap Field Marshal von Staube,and Luftwaffe Marshal von Gault?

CHAPTER NINE

Orders For Eagles

It seemed a lifetime to Dave before theability to think fully returned, and threetimes as long before the power of speechwas once again his. He turned his headslowly and stared at Freddy Farmer. TheEnglish youth was sitting like a statue ofstone, eyes fixed on Major Barber, andblank amazement spread all over his face.In an abstract crazy sort of way thepicture he saw made Dave think ofsomebody socked by a five pound

blackjack loaded with buckshot. FreddyFarmer wasn't exactly out cold. But hemight just as well have been.

"Did you hear what I heard, pal?" Davefinally compelled his lips to say.

Freddy jumped a little as though stuckwith a pin, and turned to look at him.

"I don't know," he said in a rather vacanttone. "I could be mistaken. This could bejust some crazy nightmare."

"It is," Dave grunted, and switched hisgaze to Major Barber. "Only thenightmare part hasn't arrived yet. You're—you're not kidding, sir?"

Major Barber grinned and shook his head.

"No, Dawson," he said. "That wasstraight from the shoulder. But I don'tblame you for going into a tail spin. I'lladmit it's quite an order to hand out."

"Quite an order, he says!" Dave mumbled,and shook his head. "You wouldn't wantus to pick up Adolf Hitler for goodmeasure, would you, Major?"

The senior officer laughed and gesturedwith his two hands, palms upward.

"That would be nice," he said, "but Idoubt that Adolf would ever get that closeto possible activity. After all, he has to

save himself for the future, you know. Iflittle Yellow Belly, of the trick mustache,should get himself killed, what wouldbecome of the world? And he gotwounded in the last war, you know. It's inthe official German records. A gashedfinger opening a can of beans, I think itwas. No, we can skip Hitler. I'm notexpecting too much of you fellows."

"Thanks," Dave grinned. "For a moment, Ithought it was something that was reallygoing to be tough. One question, though. Itake it that von Staube and von Gault haveagreed? They won't put up any objectionswhen Freddy and I pop into their H.Q.and say, 'Let's go, boys'?"

Major Barber started fishing through hispockets. He finally sighed, stopped, andlooked annoyed.

"Darned if I didn't lose that wire I gotfrom them, okaying the whole business!"he said in mock seriousness. "I guessyou'll just have to take my word for it thateverything is all arranged. All thiskidding aside, though, if you two fellowsthink—"

"Just a minute, sir!" Freddy spoke upsharply. "That's just the point. I'm not yetback where I can think. But if you'reimagining that we're refusing this littleextra job, please dismiss it from your

mind at once. Personally, I wouldn't missit for anything in the world."

"And you can say that again for me, pal!"Dave echoed. Then, looking at the Major,"You just simply threw a curve when wewere expecting a high, hard one. Heck,sir! We're all for the idea. Freddy and Ihave a little motto we try to stick to. It's:We'll try anything once, and maybe twice.So forget it. Count us in. I've heard oftougher assignments, though I don't justremember where, or when!"

The senior officer chuckled and gavethem both a look of frank admiration thatwas almost as satisfying as receiving the

Congressional Medal of Honor, or theVictoria Cross.

"Don't worry," he presently said quietly."I didn't have half a doubt for even asecond. I was simply getting a kick out ofthe way you two received my littlebombshell. However, I must be deadlyserious about this. It isn't an everydayassignment. You stand one chance ofbringing back those two, and nine hundredand ninety-nine thousand, nine hundredand ninety-nine chances of not living tosee the next sun rise. There is one bigthing in your favor, though, as regardspulling off this stunt successfully. It's thatnobody but a wild-brained chap like me

would ever think of trying it. In otherwords, the fact that it is practicallyimpossible makes it just that much morepossible. If you get what I mean?"

"Close enough, I guess," Dave grunted."In other words, if and when we do showup at their H.Q., neither of them will thinkits strictly on the level. And while theyare mentally fanning the air trying to getthe picture, we'll have the perfect chanceto grab them."

"Exactly," Major Barber saidemphatically. "You could go in theredressed as Santa Claus and they wouldn'tdisbelieve you any less. However, I don't

plan for you to pop in dressed up as acouple of Saint Nicks."

"Well, that's good news, anyway!" FreddyFarmer got out with a sigh of relief. "Toget down to cases, though, sir, just whatdo you plan for us to do? Perhaps itwould be better if we got on with that partof the business."

"Good old Freddy Farmer!" Davechuckled. "Always has to find out things.Just can't wait."

"Well, I guess there's no sense in hiswaiting any longer," Major Barbergrunted with a grin. "Or you either,Dawson. Yes, I have plans for you. Every

move worked out in detail. Before Iexplain them, let me say this, though."

The Commando Chief paused, and allsigns of merriment left his face. It becameset and firm, and his eyes grave.

"The old saying about 'the best laid plansof mice and men,' and so forth, applieshere very much," he went on presently."I've plotted out every move you are tomake, taking in, I hope, every little thingthat might happen to the contrary. Butthat's exactly the point. I mean, somethingthat I haven't even dreamed of mayhappen. And if it does, the chances arethat your operating schedule will be

knocked forty ways from Sunday, andyou'll be strictly on your own, and in thekeeping of God."

"That sort of thing has happened before,and we're still here," Freddy Farmermurmured, but with not the slightest traceor hint of boasting in his voice.

"And how!" Dave breathed softly, as forthe instant his brain raced backward inmemory. "Fact is, nothing has everworked out exactly as we planned andexpected. And I don't think it ever does."

"I'm making that thought unanimous!"Major Barber said grimly. "But we canalways hope there'll be a first time. And

I'm hoping this will be it. Now, edge upcloser to this desk so's you can get a goodlook at this mosaic reconnaissance map ofthe area that concerns you two."

The Major waited while the two air aceshitched their chairs closer. Then hepicked up a pencil and touched the tip ofthe sharpened point to the mosaic map.

"Your fighter squadron will cross overthe French coast here, at Cany," he began."It will proceed as transport plane escort,as I said, as far as Salernes on thenorthern fringe of Rouen. There the Para-troops will bail out and float down totake and destroy an objective assigned to

them. Incidentally, it happens to be one ofthe largest airplane fuel depots in all ofOccupied France. Anyway, when thePara-troops have gone down, thetransport planes will turn and start backto England, with Parkinson's squadronstill acting as escort. You two, however,will pull out and head south acrossRouen, and on over the river to Evaux,here."

The Commando Chief put the pencil pointon the location of the small French town,and then lifted his eyes to look at Daveand Freddy.

"One point I'd better mention," he said.

"Squadron Leader Parkinson has no ideaof what's been cooked up for you.Therefore you'll have to use your heads asto how you quit the squadron. You couldgo down as though shot, and keep radiosilence in case he buzzes you as to whathas happened. However, it'll still bepretty dark by then, so maybe you can justdrop out, and that'll be that."

"We'll manage that part okay," Davegrunted. "Don't worry about that."

"I'm not," Major Barber said. "Too manyother tricky things to worry about. Now,when you have crossed to the southernside of Evaux—here, where the Seine

makes its biggest loop southward—youwill both step out, and head down byparachute. Of course, searchlights may beprobing around for you by then. And nodoubt there'll be anti-aircraft stuffwhizzing up at you. However, it'll be yourjob to get out of the searchlights and bailout. Before you leave, though, there'll bea little lever in each of your planes thatyou are to pull. Pulling that lever willtouch off a fire bomb that will fire yourplane exactly sixty seconds later."

"I get it!" Dave murmured. "So the anti-aircraft gunners will think they've made acouple of direct hits?"

"Right!" Major Barber told him. "Also,that you two have been instantly killed.As soon as your planes burst into flamethe searchlights will swing that way, ofcourse. But no pilots bailing out byparachute will be seen. So they'll believewhat we want them to believe. Nowcomes the tricky part, and look closely atthis mosaic map. You two should touchground fairly close together. Ditch yourparachutes, of course, check yourdirections by the compass each of youwill carry, and make your way to thiscluster of shell-shattered farm barns thatyou can see right here."

The Major paused while the two youths

bent closer and had a good look at thecluster of shell-battered farm barnsclearly pictured in the mosaic map.

"That shouldn't be hard, I don't fancy,"Freddy Farmer said. "They're right in thecenter of the U formed by the Seine."

"That's it," Major Barber said with a nod.And then he continued, "When you meet,you will proceed due north for no morethan two miles. At the end of two milesyou will come to a dirt road. See itpictured there? And see that pile ofrubble there? That was once a churchuntil a Nazi Stuka came along in June ofNineteen Forty. There you will meet a

German guard."

"And give him the works!" Dave saideagerly, as he thought of those five weeksof intensive Commando training.

"No, don't!" Major Barber caught him upsharply. "That German guard will be anAmerican Intelligence officer posing as aNazi. He's been in that area for over amonth now. That's how long ago westarted working out this little job fortomorrow night. He's your connecting linkwith all that happens from then on.Confound it! I skipped one of the mostimportant items!"

The Commando Chief paused and

snapped his finger in vexation.

"I forgot all about mentioning that stowedin your cockpits will be a Nazi uniformwith all the insignia and markings of aGerman regiment stationed in that area,"he went on. "Don't forget to take themwith you when you bail out. And put themon when you touch ground. They're Ober-Leutnant uniforms, by the way. It'll bebetter for you to pose as a couple ofofficers so's you'll have the jump on anyrank and file you might possibly bumpinto.

"Anyway, when you spot this Germansoldier walk up to him and say, 'Tell me

the time, my watch is broken.' He willanswer, 'But mine is broken, too.' By thatanswer you will definitely know that youhave met the right man. He is to be knownto you as Jones. So if you call him by anyname, call him Jones. Anyway, he'll giveyou a picture of how things stand. He'lltell you exactly where the two Nazi bigshots are at the moment. In which buildingof their H.Q., I mean. He'll tell you howmany others are about. And he'll putbefore you a plan how to pull the othersaway so that you can make your littlesurprise visit on von Staube and vonGault. Most important of all, though, hewill know the exact location of a NaziDornier Do. Seventeen that you two can

use to cart your prisoners back here toEngland. Naturally, there is a small flyingfield close to the Evaux H.Q. that bothvon Staube and von Gault use, but not thewhole Luftwaffe in general. Jones willhave all the dope on that, and of course,he'll do everything he can to make yourjob easier. He has been groomed for hispart to the nth degree. So have no worriesthat anything will slip up at his end. Onceyou have nailed von Staube and von Gault—and I suggest right here that you slugthem good, and bind them right up withwire you'll be carrying—Jones will runthe interference for you. That's a footballexpression, Farmer. You get what Imean?"

"Yes, sir," Freddy grinned. "Dawson,here, made me go to some of the gameswhen we were in the States. In hotweather, too!"

"They weren't regular games, as I toldyou," Dave said with a laugh. "Just springpractice and scrimmages. But he knowswhat you mean, sir."

"Good," Major Barber grunted. "Well, Iguess that's about all the points. We'll goover them later, of course. Several times,until you have each little detail down pat.One last thing, though, about arriving backhere in England. Try to make TwoHundred and Three's airdrome. There'll

be certain parties there to take over yourprisoners. And of course, when you crossover English ground be sure and put onall your navigation lights. And keepflashing the letter M with your signallight. That'll stop any anti-aircraft shellsfrom coming up to greet you. Well, Iguess that's about it. Are there anyquestions? Any part of the plan thatstrikes you as not measuring up to snuff?"

Neither Dave nor Freddy said anything.For the moment they were too busy withtheir own thoughts to ask any questions.And their thoughts were indeed in highgear. To Dave the whole thing lookedeasy as apple pie. Every step they would

take had been carefully thought out andconsidered from every angle. It wouldalmost be like acting out a book they hadread; knowing exactly what to do next,and how it would all come out in the end.

Yes, it seemed a cinch. But that wasexactly the point. Cold, hard commonsense, and the memory of experience, toldhim that it wasn't going to be any cinch.Far, far from it. The eerie tinglingsensation that rippled through the back ofhis neck was all the proof of thatstatement he needed. Plan, and plan, andplan. It made no difference how much, orhow long, you planned. There was alwaysthat unknown something, that unexpected

something, lingering in the background. Itwould pop up at you, as sure as man is afoot high. And when it popped—

Dave didn't bother finishing the rest ofthat thought. He drove it from his mind,and glanced at Freddy Farmer. He couldsee that their thoughts were very mutualindeed.

"Got anything you want to ask, Freddy?"he said.

The English-born air ace frowned, andthen shook his head.

"No, can't think of a question at themoment," he murmured. "It's all expertly

cut and dried. All we have to do is followthe instructions. No, I haven't anyquestions."

"That goes for me, too, sir," Dave grinnedat the Commando Chief. "The only thingleft, now, is to pull it off. And of course,we'll both pitch our arms off to do justthat."

"And, please God, may your arms holdout!" the Major said fervently.

CHAPTER TEN

Victory Wings

Black night hung like a velvet curtainover the southeast coast of England. Asthough even the gods had decided to givethe United Nations forces a break, not asingle star was showing. Sullen darkovercast stretched from horizon tohorizon, and just off the coast a thinprotective fog hovered above the watersof the Channel. On the drome of the TwoHundred and Third R.A.F. fighters,twenty-one Merlin-powered Spitfires,

Mark Fives, stood waiting to be streakedaloft into the night sky. From prop totrimmer flap on the rudder, every planehad been checked and rechecked byskilled mechanics as well as the pilotsthemselves. Not a nut, bolt, or strand ofbracing wire had been overlooked, ortaken for granted. Upon those Spitfires,and the steady-eyed eagles who would flythem, depended the lives of many bravemen. The Commando Para-troops whowould be taken over by transport plane,and then dumped off to go down and dotheir job of destruction, and later fighttheir way back to the seacoast and theBritish Navy boats waiting to take themback to England. In many wars, and

before many battles, had elaborate anddetailed plans and preparations beenmade. Never, though, in the history of allthe world, had any military operationbeen as minutely arranged and preparedfor as this morale-jolting raid about to belaunched against Hitler's blood-lettingforces in Occupied France.

For a while Dave and Freddy hadgathered together with the other pilots ofTwo Hundred and Three and hashed andrehashed the part that the squadron was toplay in this lightning bolt blow against thetwo-legged forces of all things dirty andevil in Europe. In time, though, theydrifted away from the general gathering

and started wandering alone andaimlessly about the field faintly markedout by tiny flares. They had covered quitea bit of ground before Freddy finallybroke the silence.

"Gives a chap a bit of a spooky feeling,all this, doesn't it?" he said. "Like sort ofsitting around waiting for an unexplodedbomb to go off."

"Something like, yes," Dave grunted. "Butthis'll be more than just a bomb when itgoes off. More like an ammo dump, I'dsay. And a couple of dozen of them, too.How do you feel, Freddy?"

"Scared stiff, and absolutely pink!" was

the prompt reply. "And you?"

"Ditto!" Dave echoed. "My knees are suregetting to know each other, the waythey're knocking together. I don't dare sitdown for fear they'll freeze solid, andwon't let me get up. Boy! I sure wish itwas time to get going!"

"Won't be long, now," Freddy murmuredwith a look at the radium-figured dial ofhis wrist watch. "But I agree with you. I'llfeel much better once we get in the air,and are getting on with the show.Remember all of Major Barber'sinstructions?"

Dave laughed and then whistled softly.

"Twenty years from now you could askme, and I'd be able to recite them wordfor word," he said. "The Major should bea school teacher, or something. He cansure put details in your head, and makethem stay there. He's a swell guy, theMajor is."

"That he is!" Freddy echoed the statement."A bit of all right. No doubt his ancestorswere English."

"Listen!" Dave shot back quickly. "I saidthe Major was a swell guy, see? Just skipcasting slurring remarks about him, see?"

"As if—!" Freddy blazed, and then sawthe grin on Dave's face. "Well, his

ancestors didn't come from the BelgianCongo, like one chap's I could mention!"

"Stop talking about yourself!" Dave threwat him. "Besides, we were originallytalking about this raid. What do you thinkour chances are, Freddy?"

The English youth was silent for amoment. He walked a few steps forward,staring unseeing at the ground.

"I don't know," he said finally. "My brainrefuses to try and figure the odds. Whichis just as well for my nerves, I guess. I'monly hoping it comes off as easily as theplanning makes it appear. One thing,though. Selecting me to go along with you

is just about the finest honor I everreceived."

"Oh, think nothing of it, my friend!" Davesaid with an airy wave of his hand. "Backin New York when Major Barber askedme if I thought you were well enoughtrained to—"

"Rot!" Freddy cut in harshly. "I was beingserious, Dave. True, we've seen quite abit of the war. And we've accomplishedan odd job or two here and there. Butthere are plenty of men older than us,better trained, and far more experiencedin this kind of thing. It was a mighty highhonor to pick a—well, you might say, a

couple of kids like us."

"You've got something there, pal," Davesaid gravely. "But as the Major pointedout, age doesn't mean a thing in this war.Kids and grown men alike can turn out tobe heroes with the right stuff. And, not toboast, there are a couple of points in ourfavor. We're pilots, experienced ones.We know that area pretty well from thefirst year of the war. We also speakGerman well. And—well, there're acouple of other good points about us, butskip them. The main point is that theMajor selected us. As far as that goes forme, it's okay. I don't care about why hepicked me as one of the pair. I only hope

and pray I live up to the trust he's put inme."

"Quite, and me, too!" Freddy Farmerbreathed as though in prayer. "I suppose Ifeel as I do every time we're handed atough assignment, but I truly feel that Iwant to accomplish this job tonight andtomorrow dawn more than I've everwanted to accomplish anything. It's—it'sas though my whole life had been built upto this night. Do I sound crazy?"

"Nope, not at all," Dave told him quickly."You're simply saying the words Icouldn't think up. Say, how long now? I'mgetting so jittery to get going that if I wait

much longer I won't have the muscle co-ordination to hoist myself up into the pit.How long, Freddy?"

"Twenty minutes," the English youthreplied. "Steady on, Dave. Don't let it getyou down, old chap. Things will startsoon enough. Be like I am, calm, cool,and—"

"A cockeyed liar!" Dave finished with alaugh. "But thanks for the effort, pal. Yourvoice does have a soothing effect uponme, at times. And note that I said, attimes!"

"Gratitude for you!" Freddy snortedangrily. "But of course, I expected that

kind of a comment, coming from you. Bythe way! I hope you checked to see if yourNazi uniform was stuffed in the pit?"

"I did," Dave replied, and laughed. "Andmy rigger mechanic saw it, too. Made himplenty curious. The bundle, I mean. Hecouldn't tell that it was a Nazi uniform. Ithought it best to offer some kind of anexplanation, so I told him that it was anextra uniform in case I got shot down inflames, and burned the one I waswearing."

"Good grief!" Freddy gasped. "What acrazy thing to say! And what did he say?"

"He didn't," Dave chuckled. "He didn't

say a thing—to me. He just walked off,muttering something about all Yanksbeing a little balmy."

"And he wasn't far from wrong!" FreddyFarmer leaped at the opening."Particularly in your case. But let's starton back to the tarmac, shall we? Theyshould be starting up the engines for abrief warm-up soon. And it isn't good to,give the other chaps the idea that we'retrying to snub them."

"Nuts!" Dave snorted. "Those guys areregular. They wouldn't think anything likethat, ever. But let's get on back, anyway. Iwant to give my bus one more check, just

for something to do. Oh-oh! There gosome of the egg boys. Happy landings,fellows! And smack them plenty, thebums!"

As Dave spoke the last he and Freddythrew back their heads and stared up intothe dark sky that was suddenly filled withthe roaring thunder of many bomberswinging out across the Channel to "lay"their "eggs" as planned. For a couple ofminutes both sky and earth trembled fromthe steady thunder of powerful engines.Then gradually it faded away in thesoutheast.

"Boy! That was a bunch of them!" Dave

exclaimed with a whistle. "The wholeraid area will probably be flat as apancake by the time the Commando troopsarrive. Gosh! I hope their eggs don't scarevon Staube and von Gault away!"

"Or make the blighters hide in some bombshelter where we can't find them!" Freddyechoed with a little nervous laugh. "Well,let's buzz over. There's the first of theMerlins starting up. Getting close now,Dave."

Dawson didn't comment. He licked hissuddenly dry lips, swallowed hard acouple of times, and hurried with Freddyacross the drome to the line of twenty-one

Spitfires on the tarmac. Pilots gathered insmall groups were breaking up, each mangoing over to his plane. Dave went overto his, and Freddy to his own which wasnext to it. Both knew their planes by heart,but from force of habit they each madeone last and final check, and found everylittle thing just as they knew it would be.

Then they met between the two planes andwaited for the engine fitters to climb inthe pits and kick the Merlins into life. Thewhole drome, now, was echoing and re-echoing to the roar of Merlin engines. Butto Dave and Freddy, and everybody elsefor that matter, the thunderous roar wasthe sweetest music on earth.

"Well, have you two got it all straight,eh?"

They both spun around at the sound of thevoice shouting above the Merlins' roar.Squadron Leader Parkinson stood theredressed and ready for flight. He wascalmly smoking a cigarette, but there wasa flashing, eager-to-be-off look in hiseyes. Dave nodded and answered forhimself and Freddy.

"All okay, sir!" he shouted back. "We gooff second with Green Flight. Up to tenthousand, and fly line astern by flightsuntil we pick up the Para-troop transportsfive miles off shore."

"Right!" the Squadron Leader said with anod. "Then spread out in top cover. Greenright, blue left, Red center, and PurpleFlight covering our tails. Right you are,lads. Good luck to you both. If any nightMesserschmitts or Focke-Wulfs put in anappearance, don't let the blighters go anyplace but down!"

"And with flames for company, sir," Daveadded with a grin.

"Quite!" the Squadron Leader echoed thestatement, and started to turn away. Hechecked his movement, however, andturned back to give each of the two youthsa searching stare.

"I meant that," he said a moment later."About good luck to you both. I don'tknow a thing, but I fancy you didn't goover to Commando H.Q. yesterday just tohave a spot of tea. Anyway, mighty gladto have you with us—until you have topeel off, and go on your own. Cheerio,until we meet again sometime!"

Without giving either of the boys a chanceto say anything, Squadron LeaderParkinson flipped a hand to his goggles insalute and went quickly away.

"Jeepers!" Dave presently ejaculated."Maybe we should wear signs on ourbacks, or something! That Parkinson is no

dumb bunny, what I mean!"

"Oh, quite," Freddy said. "But after all,old chap, we're not strictly R.A.F. thesedays, you know. And—well, I fancy itmust have struck everybody a bit queer,our just joining up with the Squadronwearing U. S. Army Air Force uniforms.Plenty of Yank squadrons over here, now,for us to be assigned to. And that callfrom Commando H.Q. would start anychap thinking."

"Yes, I guess that's right," Dave said witha nod. "But here's hoping the birds on theother side of the Channel aren't so bright.But why should they be? Oh, nuts! I'm justyelling down a rain barrel. Well, Freddy,old tin of herring, Papa will look afteryou as best he can. But try not to get in myway, and on my neck too much, see? I'vegot important things to do from now on."

Freddy took the extended hand, and thepressure of Dawson's grip told him all heneeded to know.

"You mean that the other way around, Ifancy!" he snapped. "And I warn you,young fellow, this is absolutely your last

chance! Mess up this show tonight, andI'll definitely leave you behind in alldoings in the future. I'm completely fed upwith shielding your mistakes from oursuperiors each time we go out on a show.Those things in the leading edge of yourwings are guns, understand? They shootbullets. But bullets meant for Nazi planes,not British or Yank or French or Polish orCanadian. Please have sense enough toremember this time. So don't forget! Thisis your last chance to prove you're thetype to tackle big things with me."

"Boy! What a soap box artist you'dmake!" Dave cried with a chuckle. "Givethat vocation a thought, if you last out this

war, Freddy. And right now stop breakingmy fingers! What do you think you'redoing? Cracking walnuts! Go on! Get intoyour ship before I break into tears. Atender babe like you, going along on aman's job! There should be a law, orsomething."

"Rot!" Freddy snapped, but his voice wasa little husky. "Well, happy landings,Dave, old thing. See you anon at thatcluster of shell-battered barns over inOccupied France."

"I'll be there waiting, sweetheart," Davesaid. Then as a parting shot, "And don'tforget the rip-cord ring. You have to yank

it hard for the thing to open. Verynecessary, you know."

"I'll do my best to remember, Dave,"Freddy Farmer assured him.

And the two air aces climbed up into theirSpitfires.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Silent Wings

France! The once brave, fighting nationnow helpless in the steel-gloved hands ofits ruthless conquerors. Some vowed thattreachery in high places had doomedFrance. Others vowed it had been the vastsuperiority of the enemy in all things. Andothers vowed there was some otherreason for the swift and devastatingdefeat of the once proud republic. Butwhat did it matter, the reason, now? Orwhat would it matter until after the war

had been fought and won by the UnitedNations? The fact was that France was inchains; helplessly, but not hopelessly,enslaved by a gang of war bandits whoeven insulted their own intelligence, whatlittle there was of it, by referring tothemselves as men and human beings.

That was the one fact, the one great truth.And as Dave shoved open his greenhouseand stuck his head out to look down at thecarpet of night shadows that was France,a sharp ache came to his heart, and heunconsciously clenched his free hand intoa fist of promised vengeance. It had beena long time since he had flown overFrance. At least so it seemed, so much

had happened since then. Last year? No,that couldn't be. Five years ago at theleast. Maybe more. But not just last year.It couldn't have been. Yet it was so.[1]

"Keep your chin up, old girl!" hewhispered downward. "Maybe this isn'tthe beginning. But the day is coming. It'scoming just as sure as the rain grows littleapples. Britishers, Yanks, Dutch,Belgians, Canadians, Poles, and your ownFree French. That's a promise, La BelleFrance. Thousands and thousands ofthem, with all the stuff they'll need to cutHitler down to snake level. Believe me,old girl!"

With a grim nod for emphasis, he pulledhis head in and shoved the greenhouseshut. He was flying Number Two on theright in Green Flight, and Green was onthe right of the general squadronformation. The Para-troop transportswere a thousand feet below, thirty-five ofthem drilling steadily along into France.At the coast anti-aircraft batteries hadopened up with a savage fire andsearchlights had crossed and crisscrossedthe heavens. But not for very long. A fewsquadrons of low flying Hurricanebombers had jumped on the guns andlights, and given their operators too muchtrouble for them to be able to concentratevery closely on the huge aerial cavalcade

passing by overhead.

As for Nazi night fighters, there hadn'tbeen the sign of one so far. Perhaps thebombers earlier had chewed up theirdromes and parked planes so that thereweren't any in condition to take to the airnow. Or maybe, the odds being so muchagainst them, the Nazi pilots were simplyexecuting that well known Germanmilitary maneuver. In short, never fightunless there are three of you to one ofyour enemy.

"And then again," Dave continued thethought aloud, "maybe they are waitinguntil we get deeper in, and near our

objective. Then they'll swarm up and divedown to try and do their stuff. Yeah!Maybe they know these are Para-troopplanes. And what fun it would be to pickoff the poor devils floating down byparachute. Just like shooting fish in abarrel!"

Dave's heart skipped a beat as he thoughtof that possibility. And on impulse hetilted back his head and stared hard at thestill overcast sky. Were there Nazifighters up in that inky sky? Flocks ofHitler's vultures tagging along on silentwings, ready for the moment to screamdown and strike? Dave's heart beat a littlefaster, and the palms of his hands became

cold and clammy. He shook himself andreturned his gaze to straight ahead.

"Cut it out, kid!" he growled at himself."Get back on the beam. You've got plentyof other things to worry about, withoutwondering about Nazi night fighterstagging along upstairs. Just keep yourthoughts on what Freddy and you haveahead of you."

As he spoke his pal's name he turned hishead and peered at the next plane on hisleft. He knew it was Freddy's Spitfire, buthe could only see it as a darker movingshadow against the general background. Asudden longing to talk and crack wise

with Freddy was his. But, of course, hemade no move to speak into his flap mike.Squadron Leader Parkinson would do allthe talking. Nobody else was to sayanything unless addressed by theSquadron Leader. Not that the Nazisbelow didn't know that enemy planeswere up there in the skies. Their ears toldthem that. Radio silence had been orderedsimply to avoid all chance of anunguarded or thoughtlessly spoken wordgiving Nazi listening stations a clue as towhat was actually taking place.

And so Dave killed the urge to talk withFreddy Farmer, and continued to hold hisposition in the Flight formation, and keep

his eyes skinned for the first glimpse ofNazi night fighters that might suddenlycome gun yammering down and in amongthe Para-troop transports. Seconds tickedby, and became minutes, however,without a single German pilot sticking hisnose into the business. Then, presently, asDave glanced at his cowled dash clock,he saw that the two formations were onlyone minute away from their objectivepoint in the air. By straining his eyes, andpeering hard, Dave could just make outthe winding grey ribbon that was theSeine River winding past the city ofRouen. The city, itself, was in totalblackout, though a light did show here andthere. Staring at them, Dave wondered if

brave Frenchmen down there wereplaying their part in this giganticundertaking, risking the Nazi death decreeby showing lights that might guide theUnited Nations planes in the air. Therewere many Frenchmen like that. Theymounted up into the thousands—far morethan the rest of the world realized, letalone heard about. Steel-hearted men,women, and, yes, children, who fought theNazi beasts twenty-four hours a daywithout guns, or cannon, or tanks, orairplanes, but with their hands, and feet,and their brains. They were not peopleliving on the brink of death. They lived inthe middle of death. Night and day, weekafter week, month after month, and on and

on until death, or victory, ended theirmisery.

Finally, the last minute was over and apart of time history. Dave glanced downand saw the shadows that were trooptransport planes opening up widerformation. He imagined, if he didn't see,the tough, painted-faced Commandosstepping out and going down byparachute. He wondered if they were allAmericans in that bunch down there. Hehoped so, and told himself that was so. Itgave him a thrilling feeling to have helpedescort those boys over from England. Andwhat they wouldn't do to the Nazi trampsthey met on me ground! There was no

fighter on earth like a Yank, once he gotstarted. Not even the Australians couldget tougher than Uncle Sam's fightingfools. They—

The rest of the thought folded up inDave's brain. At that instant he heard thesavage snarl and yammer of aerialmachine guns. And he had only to jerk hishead around and look up to see thestabbing tongues of yellow-orange flameetched against the black sky. Nazi fighterswere rushing down to enjoy a field day ofkilling and slaughter. But that's what theythought! There was good old TwoHundred and Three between them and thePara-troop planes. Two Hundred and

Three, that had one of the best records inthe R.A.F. for bringing down enemyaircraft.

"So come on down!" Dave grated, andslid his free hand up to twist the firingring of his trigger button on the stick."Come on down and get slapped in theface for keeps. We'll—"

"Tally-ho, chaps!" came Squadron LeaderParkinson's cry over the radio. "Companyhere. Let's entertain the blighters, or makethem go home. After them, chaps!"

"And how!" Dave shouted happily, andstarted to whip his Spitfire around and uptoward the part of the night sky etched

with streaks of yellow orange. "We'llshow—"

The rest died on his lips as common sensesuddenly got the upper hand of him, androughly jogged his memory. Heck, yes, ofcourse! Was he nuts? He couldn't gokiting up there to do battle with thoseNazi night fighters. And neither couldFreddy Farmer. This was the end of theline for them. This was where they got offand changed trains. They had an exacttime schedule of their own. And if theywasted minutes fooling around with thosediving night fighters of Hitler's, theirwhole schedule could very well bethrown completely out of whack.

"But it's like quitting!" Dave groaned ashe checked his turn and started to peel offand down toward the south. "Like gettingthe wind up and running out on the boys.And they're such swell guys. Oh nuts!Would five minutes make any difference?I might smack a couple in five minutes,stop two of them from maybe cuttingdown through us and spraying those Para-Commandos going down to earth. I—"

He groaned aloud again, for he knew thathe was simply talking words that didn'tmean anything. He had a job to do.Freddy had a job to do. And TwoHundred and Three had a job to do—without them! Major Barber hadn't

kidded around on that point when he'dgiven Freddy and him the instructions. Atthe jump off spot, Freddy and he were topeel away from the squadron and get onabout their own little job. And that meantpeel away no matter if the whole GermanLuftwaffe dropped down on top of TwoHundred and Three.

"But just let me get back to England!"Dave whispered as he went roaringsouthward. "Just let me get back so that Ican tell those boys, and have themunderstand how it was we pulled out andleft them in the soup. Just let me do that!"

With a savage nod for emphasis, Dave

squinted ahead at the searchlight beamsthat were now cutting up from the city ofRouen, and then looked to the right and tothe left. Freddy Farmer's plane was on hisright. He could see it quite clearly, now.There was beginning to be quite a bit oflight. However, it was red light fromexplosions on the ground below thatreflected upward. And those explosionsmeant that some of the Commandos hadalready landed and were going intoplanned action.

"Give it to them, boys!" Dave shoutedimpulsively, and shook his free fist."Give them the works, and not once overlightly, either. Sock it to them where it

hurts!"

As though a Nazi anti-aircraft gunner onthe ground wanted to help out, a shellexploded with a terrific roar just on theright to punctuate Dave's last sentence. Itwas close enough to send his Spitfirejumping a bit, and he almost slipped intoa spin before he regained control. Whenhe did he spent a couple of very anxiousmoments waiting to see if shrapnel pieceshad done any serious damage. Noneseemed to have, though, for the Rolls-Royce Merlin in the nose continued toroar out its song of mighty power and pullthe Spitfire through the night air at closeto four hundred miles an hour.

That single exploding shell, though, wasbut the first greeting of many. As Freddyand he went clipping across Rouen, andover the twisting Seine, it seemed asthough all the anti-aircraft batteries inEurope had opened up on them. And therewere so many searchlight beams pokingupward and swinging back and forth, andaround in circles, that the sky ahead andon all sides was like a shimmering whitefishing net. And the searchlight beamscertainly were fishing for the twoSpitfires.

A dozen times one caught Dave's planecold and blinded him for a split second ortwo. But just as an anti-aircraft battery

would take a new sight on him, he wouldmanage to whip out of the brilliance ofthe "Peeping Tom" and into blessed blacksky that hid him from view. And just asmany times he saw lights catch Freddy'splane, and make the English-born air acedo his trick dance before getting out ofsight again.

As a matter of fact, the closer they cameto Evaux the more guns started shooting atthem, and the more searchlights spranginto action. The sky was lighted up almostas though it were high noon. There werefew "black" spots, and cold sweattrickled down Dave's face as shellsseemed to burst right on top of his wings,

and even inside the cockpit—which ofcourse they didn't.

"We're going to have to be good!" hemuttered, as he dropped the Spit's noseand cut down into momentaryconcealment. "Plenty good, or they'll seeus step off, and start a man hunt by thetime we've reached the ground. And thatmustn't happen. Those birds down therehave got to think we're still in the shipswhen they see them catch fire. And so—well, it's up to us to make it good."

As he spoke the last he put his lips to theflap mike.

"Better get out of here, Freddy!" he

shouted.

It was the signal they had arranged inMajor Barber's office, the only wordsthey would speak over the air. But theywould mean plenty. Dave's speakingthose words was the signal for them bothto bail out in the next possible second,after yanking the lever that started thetime mechanism of the fire bomb. So theinstant the words were off Dave's lips hecut deeper into the dark area in the sky,yanked the fire bomb lever, shoved openthe greenhouse cowling, unfastened hissafety harness and got up on the seat.

With his foot he moved the stick over to

the right to tilt the Spitfire in thatdirection a little. Then, after bracinghimself, he dived out and down, holdinghis breath for a couple of split secondsfor fear he had done it wrong and wouldget practically cut in two by the Spitfire'stail plane. But he had done it right, and hewent spinning end over end down throughthe night air that grew darker the lower hefell. He counted up to twenty, thentightened his grip on the rip-cord ring andjerked it hard.

"You'd better work," he muttered, "or I'llbe plenty sore at the manufacturer!"

For a moment more he went on spinning

downward, and then invisible handshooked onto his body and he was jerkedback up toward the night sky. For oneawful instant he almost lost his grip on thebundled up German uniform he hadgrabbed before he bailed out. Hemanaged to hang onto it, however, andpresently he was floating earthward,while high above anti-aircraft shellspainted the heavens with red and yellowand orange. And the dazzling white beamsof the searchlights made a moving,swaying background for the display ofwar's colors.

"So far, so good," Dave muttered, andimpulsively crossed the fingers of his free

hand. "Now, if Freddy has bailed outsafely, and is on his way down,everything is okay, okay."

CHAPTER TWELVE

Invisible Death

"All right, cut out enjoying yourself!There's the ground down there someplace. And it's coming up, fast. Payattention to your knitting, pal!"

Dave wasn't sure whether he had spokenthe words aloud, or whether they hadsimply been spoken in his brain. Anyway,he stopped twisting his head this way andthat to admire the display of burstingcolors high overhead, and started peering

down through the gloom in the directionof the ground. Just as he did that, though,there were two loud explosions in rapidsuccession. They were to the south andabove his altitude, and when he jerked hisgaze up that way he saw two huge ragingballs of flame arc out across the sky anddown, leaving behind long tails ofwinking sparks.

"Freddy's ship and mine, going up insmoke," he said softly. "Gee! What arotten end for such a swell pair of planes.Spitfire Mark Fives don't grow on trees,darn it! Too bad we couldn't have used acouple of crates that had seen their bestdays. Yet that might not have been so hot

if we'd run into Nazi night fighters sooner.Well, that's how it goes. Rest in peace,old gals!"

With a half salute toward the blazingSpitfires falling earthward, and followeddownward every inch of the way by acouple of dozen Nazi searchlights, Daveswitched his gaze toward earth again, andtwisted around at the ends of hisparachute shroud lines in order to pickout any faint landmarks that might beshowing. It took him a couple of secondsbefore he saw the big loop made by theSeine as it wound past the city of Rouen.When he saw it a happy smile came to hislips, and he felt pleased all over. Unless a

low wind caught him and did things withhis parachute envelope, he should landpractically in the middle of the Seine'sloop, the exact spot, where he was tomake his rendezvous with Freddy Farmer.

"Nice, very neat!" he grunted. Then with alittle laugh, "But you know darn well, pal,that it's just bull luck. You didn't see thatriver loop when you stepped out, and youknow it. But don't be dumb enough toadmit that to Freddy when you see him!"

With a grin and a nod for emphasis, hestarted to bend his knees ready forlanding. The night shadow-filled groundwas very close, now. As yet, though, the

shadows weren't clear enough for him tomake out just what they were. Trees,rocks, buildings, or even maybe thecluster of farm barns where he was tocontact Freddy again? And so he breatheda silent prayer that there were no treesdirectly under him, or at least that he'd beable to see them in time. It would be nice,he didn't think, to foul his 'chute on sometop branches, and dangle there like aChristmas tree ornament until daylightwhen some Nazis came by and cut himdown, or shot him down! And it wouldn'tbe the first time that sort of thing hadhappened, either!

"So don't even think about it!" he growled

at himself. And with one hand stillhanging onto the bundled up Germanuniform, he reached up both hands andgrabbed hold of the shroud lines to easesome of his weight off the harness strapsand make the landing that much easier.

Perhaps the gods were watching overhim, or perhaps he was just plain lucky.At any rate, there were no trees underhim, nor any big rocks, either, that couldgive him a nice case of twisted or brokenankle. As a matter of fact, there was just anice patch of fairly soft ground, and hecame to earth, and spilled the air out ofhis 'chute, without any trouble at all.

The instant he was on the ground, and hadspilled air, he wiggled out of the harness,gathered up the 'chute and shoved it wellout of sight under some bushes.

"Too bad they don't make these things so'syou can use them to go on back up again,"he murmured with a chuckle. "Aparachute pickup! I must give that somethought when I get back to England, andhave a little time on my hands. I—"

He cut the rest off short as part of what hehad said came echoing back into hisbrain. "When I get back to England!" Acold shiver rippled down his spine, andhis mouth went just a little bit dry at the

thought. Here he was in the middle ofOccupied France, with nobody knowshow many Nazi butchers quite eager tocut his throat from ear to ear if theyshould find him. In Occupied France—onfoot. His Spitfire was now just a heap ofsmouldering wreckage many miles away.When he got back to England? That wouldnot come to pass until he had captured aNazi plane and flown it across theChannel. Stealing a Nazi plane was hisonly avenue of escape. It—

He shook his head to drive away thebothersome thought.

"So what?" he grated at himself.

"Freddy's in the same boat. And what youhope to do, you did once before, didn'tyou? Well, stop sniveling and blubberingaround. Just make this the second time,that's all!"[2]

All the time he had been carrying on theconversation with himself he had beenchanging into the uniform of a Nazi Ober-Leutnant. To his surprise and delightedsatisfaction, he found that it fitted himperfectly. But when he gave that a secondthought, why shouldn't it? Sure! MajorBarber wasn't the kind of a man who didthings hop-skip-and-a-jump style. TheMajor, of course, had made sure that theuniform would fit.

He stood up and moved around a bit, asthough he were in front of a mirror.

"Nice, perfect!" he murmured. "Almostmakes me feel like a Nazi. But not quite,though. Not in the old head, anyway. Nowto check a bit, and get started. Mustn'tkeep Freddy waiting—if he's okay."

Turning slowly, he peered hard in alldirections. The anti-aircraft fire had dieddown considerably, and not so manysearchlight beams were sweeping backand forth across the sky. Still, there wasenough light of battle toward the north toshed just a faint glow down on theground. He saw that he was in the

clearing of a small woods. Lucky for himto have dropped in so neatly. A glance athis compass gave him north, and aftermaking sure that everything he wasleaving behind was well out of sight ofchance German eyes, he started forwarddue north. Unless his rapid calculationswere all cockeyed, he had about half amile to travel before he would reach thecluster of shell-battered farm barns.

Here was a chance to put more of hisCommando training into practice, and ashe moved forward he made less noisethan an Indian stalking game. Every stephe took was more or less planned andconsidered ahead of time. He didn't bump

into any trees that loomed up out of thedark. Nor did he stumble blindly overstones and boulders, or go barging intobushes in his path. There was no way oftelling whether German patrols wereabout. That was one detail that MajorBarber couldn't give him. From now onhis life was in his own hands. What hedid, and when he did it, was strictly up tohim. And it was the same with FreddyFarmer.

Freddy! The thought of his pal started hisbrain racing again. Where was Freddy?How was he making out? Had he comedown okay somewhere near, and was henow making his own way toward the

rendezvous point? Or—A cold chillslashed through Dave, and he refused tolet himself finish that thought. If anythingshould ever happen to Freddy Farmer, hevowed he would spend the rest of his lifehunting down Adolf Hitler to takepersonal vengeance out on the two-legged, mustached animal from anotherworld.

"Listen!" Dave told himself. "Stopworrying about Freddy. If there is one ladwho always keeps a date, no matter what,Freddy Farmer is the lad. Don't worry!That guy will get there, even if he has toslip through the whole darn GermanArmy. Just worry about yourself. Just tend

to your own knitting!"

Taking what comfort he could from hisown words, he kept on moving north, eyesstabbing at the darkness ahead, and earshalf tuned to the distant sounds of battle tothe north. At the end of fifteen minutes hecame to the crest of a small ridge. Heflattened himself on the top and peeredhard down the other slope. His heart did alittle dance of joy, and he silently shookhands with himself. Down there, not morethan a couple of hundred yards away, hecould just see the dim outlines of theshell-blasted farm barns.

For a couple of minutes he remained

glued to the ground, searching for anypossible lights, and straining his ears forany sound other than the sounds of battlefar away from him. He saw no lights,however, and he heard no sounds. He gotto his feet again, bent well forward andwent down the far side of the slope withas much noise as though he were in hisbare feet and walking on a velvet carpet.At the end of seven minutes by his watchhe was hugging the tilting side of thenearest shell-blasted barn, and straininghis eyes and ears more than ever.

Again he saw nothing, and heard nothing.But for three long minutes he forcedhimself to crouch motionless, crouch as

motionless as a corpse. Then he started topurse his lips and let out the whistle of anight loon, the signal he and Freddy hadagreed upon. But before the first notecould reach his lips he heard the low callcoming to him through the darkness fromoff to his left. For a split second, hisnerves had been so tensed, it was all hecould do to stop from letting out a wildyell of greeting.

But he didn't, of course. Instead he turnedleft, started moving slowly forward, andanswered the loon call. Two, three moreminutes ticked by, and then a little bit ofthe darkness seemed to move out towardhim, and he felt Freddy Farmer's hands on

his arm. It was so perfect an approach bythe English youth that Dave gulped andwas violently startled in spite of the factthat he had known Freddy was close. Thehand on his arm tightened and he waspulled down onto the ground, or ratherdown into a small crater left by one of theexploding shells that had wrecked thosefarm barns earlier in the war.

"What kept you, old thing?" asked thewhispering voice in his ear. "Been herefor hours, scared stiff something hadhappened to you. Did you run into anyNazi patrols? There are some of thebeggars about. One blighter almoststepped on my hand. Could have finished

him easy, but he had some pals along.You all right, Dave?"

"Fit as a fiddle," Dave whispered back."What do you mean, what kept me? I ranall the way! I didn't come across anyNazis, though. After this, better keep yourhands in your pockets, pal. Well, let'shave a look at the time. Don't want to belate meeting Jones."

As Dave breathed the last he slid back thelittle cover that fitted over the radium dialof his wrist watch, and took a quick lookat the time. It told him that they had forty-six minutes to cover the two miles to theshelled church rubble where Jones was to

meet them. He let Freddy see his watch,and then started to speak, but didn't as theEnglish youth pressed something into hishand.

"A bit of burnt cork I brought along,Dave," the English air ace whispered. "Iknow we are wearing Jerry uniforms, butuntil we contact Jones we'd betterblackout ourselves a bit, don't you think?There are too many blasted Nazispatrolling around. Better that we don't letthem see us, even if we are dressed asNazi officers. We can rub this stuff offlater, if we have to."

"Check, and thoughtful boy!" Dave

murmured, and started rubbing the blackstuff all over his face. "And look, Freddy,your seeing Nazi patrols starts methinking. We both want to get through tocontact Jones, but at least one of us mustget through. You get what I mean?"

"Quite," Freddy replied. "If we ran intotrouble together, why, neither of us mightget out of it. Going separately, though, oneof us would probably get through toJones. And if the other didn't show up-well, Jones would just have to team upwith the chap who did. Correct?"

"Right on the button," Dave said. "I'd surelike your company, pal. But I think we'd

better go it alone from here to that shelledchurch. Two miles. Let's say we makeone mile in twenty minutes. Forty miles tothe ruined church, and six minutes to playwith, in case we have to. Okay. That's theway it will be. I guess we'd better getgoing now. Your face all blacked out?"

"Ready," Freddy breathed, and got to hisfeet. But he suddenly reached out andtouched Dave on the arm. "Just had athought," he whispered. "Might be a goodidea for us to contact again halfway.There's an old bit of railroad track just amile from here. Remember seeing itmarked on Major Barber's mosaic maps?What say we meet there again in twenty

minutes, twenty-three minutes at the most.Think that would be a good idea?"

"Checks with me," Dave replied. "If wedon't meet then, the one who does reachthe railroad will know more or less thatthe other fellow is probably out of thepicture for good. Okay, Freddy. I'll beseeing you in twenty minutes, twenty-three at the most. Don't go sticking thatnose of yours into any trouble. We'llprobably have plenty of that later on."

"And see that you don't, either!" FreddyFarmer whispered right back at him. "Idon't want to have to go back looking foryou. And I'm afraid I would, you know.

That's the trouble with liking a chap somuch. Makes one do the barmiest thingssometimes."

Dave smiled in the darkness, groped forFreddy's hand, and pressed it hard.

"That goes double for me, too, Freddy,"he breathed. "But neither of us is going tohave to go back looking for the other.We're going to meet in twenty minutes. Solong. Be seeing you, pal."

The two youths squeezed hands for onebrief instant longer, then parted, and wentmelting off into the darkness in oppositedirections.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Falling Doom

A faint sound broke the silence of theblack night! Was it the wind in the trees?The echo of the battle far to the north? Anight animal stalking its next meal? Orwas it one of Adolf Hitler's uniformedkillers?

Dave Dawson didn't know. Perhaps itwas just his imagination. Perhaps it wasjust his taut nerves snapping, and hisbrain playing him tricks. As yet he had not

come across a single Nazi night patrol.And perhaps there wasn't a Germanwithin miles of him. But maybe therewas! Just to make sure, he pressedhimself close to the ground, turned hiscork-blackened face toward his left wrist,and with his right hand inched up the cuffof his sleeve, and then removed the coverfrom the radium dial of his watch that wasstrapped about his forearm halfway to theelbow.

Twenty minutes? Twenty minutes hadticked by already? His watch must bewrong! It must have gone all cockeyed! Itmust have gained a couple of hours in thelast ten minutes. He was dead certain he

had looked at it not five minutes before.Yet his watch said it was exactly fiveminutes of the hour. Just twenty minutessince he had parted company with FreddyFarmer at those shelled barns. Twentyminutes? That meant he was late. Onlythree minutes left to reach the strip of oldrailroad track!

He had the feeling that he wasn't veryclose to it; that he couldn't cover theremaining distance in three minutes, andnot make a lot of noise doing it. But—thatnoise he had heard just now! Was it aNazi? Or was it Freddy closing in fromhis left. Had Freddy—?

The black night sky seemed to crash downon Dave's spine. Every muscle went limp,and and every fiber of his entire beingseemed to snap like a rubber band. Whitehot flame cut into his right shoulder, andfingers of steel circled about his neck.There was no air in his lungs, anddazzling white balls of fire spun aroundbefore his eyes. So this is how it feelswhen you are about to die? The thoughtpounded through his brain as thethunderous roar in his ears seemed toblast his whole body to bits.

It took perhaps a split second, or evenless, for all those thoughts and emotionsto register within him. And then

experience and intensive training cameracing to his rescue. He flung up bothclenched fists with every ounce of hisstrength, shoved them between two armsand pried outward savagely. The steelfingers were pulled partly loose from hisneck. At the same time as he thrust up hisfists, he brought up his right knee with thedriving force of a battering ram, andtwisted to the left. A gurgle of pain wasmusic in his roaring ears. Air poureddown into his lungs and stung like sparksof fire. But strength was surging throughhim now, and if there was still pain hewas too furiously engaged in whirlwindaction to be conscious of it.

A grunting, gurgling hulk had half rolledand half fallen off from on top of him. Heshot out his left foot, hooked his toesabout a booted ankle, then kicked upwardand outward. At the same time he twistedback and slammed stiff fingers right downinto a puffy moon-shaped face. His palmsslapping down over parted lips cut off thescream of pain that would have torn thenight air apart if it had escaped. ButDawson had trained for this moment, andhe wasn't slipping up on a single trick.Keeping the open mouth gagged with onehand, he streaked the other down to theneck, dug in his fingers and squeezed withevery ounce of his strength. The hulkingfigure under him struggled desperately,

arched his body upward, and tried totwist his head. That was the moment!

Quick as a flash Dave crooked a legunder the figure, held his grip on the neck,and dropped the other palm down to thepoint of the chin. That palm he jammedupward with a savage, vicious movement.No man on earth caught by thatCommando trick had a chance. And theheaving hulk under Dawson was noexception to prove the rule. He wasstrong, though, and for a brief instant heresisted Dawson in a furious effort. Thenthe strength in him seemed to melt away.His head went flying backward and therewas the sickening sound of snapping

bone. Instantly the man went limp andstill. And quite naturally, too. A man whohas had his neck broken doesn't movevery much. He can't. And in this case itwas impossible, because the man wasalready dead.

A shudder shook Dave as he untwistedfrom the man and started to get up onto hisfeet. Death was a terrible thing to have todeal out, even to a black-hearted Nazi.But this was war, and a man's personalthoughts about things weren't to beconsidered. He—

The strength was suddenly sucked rightout of Dave. He hadn't realized what it

had cost him to take care of that hulkingGerman who had stumbled across him inthe dark. He tried to regain his balance,but couldn't in time. He went pitchingheadlong on his face. But that wasperfectly okay, at least for a moment ortwo. He was filled with momentary painfrom head to foot. And his lungs felt asthough invisible claws were trying to pullthem right out through his ribs. And so fortwo blessed minutes he stayed rightwhere he was, stretched out on theground, sucking air into his lungs, andletting his heart pump renewed strengththrough his body.

Then suddenly he remembered that he had

only three minutes left. Holy smoke! He'dnever make the railroad track now.Freddy would go on without him. Maybehe'd never be able to catch up. He'd—

"Dave! All right, old chap?"

The whisper was no louder than a breathof night wind in tall grass. Yet it seemedto explode in Dave's ears like cannonfire. For a split second he couldn't move,think, or function in any way at all. Hisbrain raced wildly; screamed at hismuscles to go into action again. Thismight be the rest of the German patrol.That was an officer he had just killed.He'd felt the insignia and rank sewn on

the man's uniform. Maybe the rest of thepatrol was—

Just a split second, and then his thoughtswere making sense again. That had beenFreddy Farmer, of course! Good oldFreddy Farmer. Freddy had come back tolook for him, as he had promised. Daveturned his head to the right and stared atthe motionless darkness.

"All okay here!" he breathed. "Had a littleexercise, but it's okay now. But thanks forcoming back, pal."

One of the motionless shadows moved,and Freddy Farmer was at his side.

"Didn't come back," the English youthsaid, and ran his hands over Dave asthough to make sure. "Heard a racket, andguessed you'd stumbled into a blighter.Couldn't tell in the dark. Phew! That mustbe the biggest Nazi Hitler has!"

"Had," Dave corrected grimly. "And itwas closer than I ever want it to be again.Guess I'm a pretty punk Commando. Hemust have heard me and played dead doguntil I passed by. Gosh! I feel as if I didn'thave a strip of skin left on my neck!"

"We'll have a look into that, later,"Freddy said, and started to help Dave tohis feet. "We've got to be getting along.

We're behind schedule. Maybe it wouldbe better to stick together, at that. Yes, itwould. Come on, old chap. Can't spendthe whole night chit-chatting."

"Okay by me," Dave grunted, and was justa little surprised when he found out therubber had gone out of his legs. "Let's getgoing. And that's my last dumb idea for awhile. Going it alone, I mean. Okay, giveme your hand, Freddy. Let's keep contactthat way."

"Right-o." The word just managed to driftto his ears. "I'll squeeze if I hearsomething on my side. You squeeze if youhear or see something on yours. And let's

make it as fast as we can."

Dave just grunted faintly. He didn't botherto say anything. For that matter, therewasn't anything to say. Besides, he wastoo busy feeling and sensing his wayforward through the night, and gettingmore strength back into his still achingbody as soon as he could.

Then began a night journey that Davevowed he would never forget as long ashe lived. The closer they approached thearea surrounding Evaux, the greater therisks they ran of bumping into Nazisoldiers. It seemed that they would takeno more than a couple of steps before they

would be forced to drop flat and holdtheir breath while a squad of Germantroops went past.

That fact worried Dave not a little asFreddy and he stole forward through thedark night. True, he had expectedpossibly to meet a few Germans. But notmeet so many, so often. The more hethought of it, the more a gnawing littlefear worked on his heart. Wasn't it justpossible that the Germans weresuspecting that an attack of some sortmight be made on von Staube's and vonGault's headquarters? Were the Naziexpecting something like that, and so hadthey thrown out patrols all around the

area? And if that was true, what chancewould Freddy and he have of capturingthe two Nazi big shots even with Jones'help? And what if they didn't meet the U.S. Intelligence officer posing as aGerman? Supposing something hadhappened to Jones—and he wasn't there?

The thought made a film of ice coatDave's heart, and beads of clammy sweatbreak out on his forehead. After all,maybe Freddy and he were walking witheyes wide open straight into a Nazi trap.There were just too darned many Germansoldiers about for comfort. No two waysabout that. Something was wrong. Or atleast the eerie tingling sensation that had

come to the back of his neck seemed towarn him that things were not as theyshould be, or he had hoped they wouldbe.

On sudden impulse he stopped dead,squeezed Freddy's hand, and then meltedto the ground close to a thick clump ofbushes. The shell-smashed churchcouldn't be more than a quarter of a mileaway now. But he wanted to confab withFreddy before they started down the lastlap of their weird, nerve-jangling journey.

"What's up, Dave? Something wrong?"

"Not yet," Dave breathed into his pal'sear. "But that's just what I'm wondering

about. Freddy! Did you ever see so manyNazis out on night patrol? The whole areais practically crawling with them."

"I know," the English youth murmured. "Ablessed sight more than I fancied we'd bebumping into. What do you think, Dave?"

"In circles, up to now," the Yank-born airace replied. "I don't know just what tothink. Trouble is, I've got a sneaky hunchthat the bums figure that something may bein the wind, and are doing somethingabout it, by throwing out so many patrols.Right here is where this whole thing stopslooking like a cinch. Supposing Jonesisn't there at the wrecked church!"

"I refuse to answer!" Freddy hissed. "Itjust can't be that way. He's just got to bethere. We'd be in a fine flat spin if Jonesdidn't show up. Don't even think about it!"

"I'm trying not to, but it's plenty hard,"Dave murmured. "Well, I guess there isn'tmuch sense, at that, in parking here andtrying to hash over something we don'tknow anything about—yet. Let's get goingagain. Can't be more than a quarter of amile more. I've just been wasting time forus."

"Rot!" Freddy grunted. "I was about tostop and talk things over, when you beatme to it. But it does no good to talk. The

only thing we can do is get to that shelledchurch—and find out what's what."

"Yeah," Dave murmured as they got intomotion again. "And do I wish mycockeyed thoughts would leave me alone.Oh well! Live and learn, I always say."

Perhaps! But Dave Dawson certainlydidn't enjoy living the next ten minutes.For one thing, each minute seemed a yearlong. And for another, they twice camewithin a hair's breadth of running smackinto a Nazi patrol. And for a third, he feltas though he had died a dozen times overduring every minute of those ten.Eventually, though, they reached the dirt

road marked so clearly on Major Barber'smaps. And but a short time after that theywere huddled together deep in the darkershadows of the piled up rubble that hadonce been a church.

"So what?" Dave heard his own voicesuddenly whisper. "Here we are, and—sowhat?"

"A little patience, I fancy," FreddyFarmer murmured. "Jones probably justwouldn't stand here waiting. It might looktoo suspicious to all those blightersmoving about. Besides, we're severalminutes late. Maybe he went for a bit of awalk, and will be back."

"Sure, that's probably it," Dave agreed,but only with his lips.

There was no agreeing with Freddy'swords inside his head. A cold clammythought seemed to fill his entire brain. No,not just a thought. Definite knowledge itwas—though of course there was noproof. Just the same, though, he had thesteady sickening feeling that the mancalled Jones was not going to meet themthis night, or any other night, for thatmatter. However, he had agreed withFreddy with his lips, anyway. No sensebuilding up a fear in Freddy that might beabsolutely unfounded. Still—

"Steady, Dave!" came Freddy's sudden,cautioning whisper. "I heard footstepscoming along the road. Maybe this willbe Jones. Steady until we get a look at thechap!"

Dave was steady enough—outwardly. Butinside he was all just so much nervousjelly. His heart tried to slap out throughhis ribs as he himself heard the sounds offootsteps coming along the road. And theblood raced through his veins, andactually seemed to be trying to force itselfout through the ends of his fingers and theends of his toes. He was filled with thewild insane desire to snap the tensionwith a laugh, or with a shout. He curbed

the impulse, though, and crouched withFreddy in the darkness as the footstepscame closer and closer.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Satan's Calling Card

Closer, closer came the footsteps! Theyseemed to be mysteriously synchronizedwith Dave's beating heart. One beat, onefootstep. One beat, one footstep. Another,and another. Dave stabbed with his eyesat the gloom, but he couldn't see a singlemoving shadow; couldn't see a singlemoving thing, even though there seemed tobe a sort of pale glow all about from thereflection of raging fires, and explodingammo dumps up Rouen way to the north.

But he couldn't see a thing, and hisstraining eyes began to smart and water.

Then, suddenly, he felt Freddy Farmerstiffen rigid at his side. And he feltFreddy's steel-like fingers close over hisown hand and press hard. And then Davesaw it, himself. Saw the faint outline of aGerman infantryman walking along theroad. He wore a battle helmet, andcrooked in his right arm was one of thedeadly Nazi sub-machine guns. Jones?The word question streaked acrossDave's brain and returned to the center towhirl like a top. Jones, or a real Germansoldier? There was only one way reallyand truly to find out.

Dave hesitated, then pressed his lips toFreddy's near ear.

"This is us!" he breathed. "Let's find out."

The English youth didn't make any reply.He simply rose silently with Dave, andtogether they stepped out of the darkershadows cast by the church rubble andapproached the figure in Nazi uniform.They were practically in front of the manbefore they stopped, and Dave spoke thecode words in flawless German.

"Tell me the time, my watch is broken."

The figure in German uniform stoppedshort and gulped in surprise.

"The time?" echoed a thick, heavy voice."I do not know. I—"

The voice stopped, and in the next splitsecond Dave swore he could feel everyhair on his head turn grey. The man inGerman uniform snapped on the beam of atiny flashlight he had taken from hispocket, and the beam hit Dave squarely inthe middle of his still blacked out face!

For an eternity, it seemed, Dave stoodrooted to the spot, unable to move amuscle. He knew that he and Freddy hadmade a fatal mistake by forgetting toremove the cork black from their faces.He knew that this man was not Jones. He

was a real Nazi soldier. And Dave knewalso that in the next split second theGerman was going to wake up the wholecountryside with his wild yells, and thesavage yammer of the sub-machine gun inhis hands. He knew all that, yet he waspowerless to do anything about it. It wasas though he didn't have a nerve nor amuscle left in his body. He was just somuch frozen bone and frozen blood. Thiswas the end—and he couldn't do a darnthing to save himself. He—

It was a streak of black lightning that hesaw moving at his side. Just a streak ofblack lightning. It had to be, becausenothing else could possibly move that

fast. But it wasn't black lightning. It wasFreddy Farmer's body streaking throughthe air. Freddy Farmer's body that hit intothe Nazi soldier with terrific force. Theflashlight dropped to the road and winkedout. There was a stifled moan of intensepain, and then the thud of two bodiesfalling to the ground.

By then Dave had snapped out of histrance. He flung himself forward anddown. But he was simply in the way.Commando Freddy Farmer knew his stuff,and there, stretched out on the dirt road,was positive proof. There was now oneless German soldier to shoot a gun atAdolf Hitler's bidding.

"Done for, Dave!" came Freddy'swhisper. "Got him with his own knife,too. Horrible business, but couldn't behelped. Lend me a hand. We'd better draghim off the road, you know. Might besome more of the beggars come along.And it would be embarrassing."

Admiration and pride rose up to choke inDave's throat as he bent down and caughthold of the dead German's feet. What aman was Freddy Farmer! A wholedoggone army in himself. If it hadn't beenfor Freddy's lightning action, they bothwould have been full of German bulletsright now. Prisoners, at least. But whilehe had stood frozen and helpless as an old

woman, Freddy Farmer had whirled intoaction. How many times did this makethat Freddy had saved their lives? Onehundred? Or was it two hundred?Probably two hundred.

Together they carried the dead Germanback into the darker shadows of thechurch rubble, and dumped him down onthe ground. Then, by silent mutualagreement, they crouched down besideeach other, Dave to try and get his brainworking again, and Freddy to get backsome of his strength and wind.

"Remind me, Freddy," Dave said, andsqueezed his pal's arm. "Remind me to

love you for life and six days afterward.That topped anything I ever saw, pal.Thanks a million for keeping your headscrewed on tight. Mine went completelyhaywire. Gosh! That was wonderful.Honest, Freddy!"

"Had to be done," the English youthmurmured. "After all, you'd got a blighterearlier. Next turn was mine, so I took it."

"And how you did, thank God!" Davesaid fervently. "I still can't realize that I'mnot full of slugs, or that a flock of Nazisaren't on our necks."

"Well, forget about it," Freddy murmured."Both alive, and that's all that counts.

Point is, what the dickens do we do now?I've got a horrible feeling, Dave."

"I've had it for several minutes," Davegroaned. "Something went wrong withthis Jones fellow. I have a feeling he's notgoing to show up."

"Man, will that make a mess!" the Englishyouth muttered. "But perhaps if we wait abit, and—I say, Dave? What's thematter?"

Dawson had suddenly jumped a little andthen stiffened rigid. He had put his handson the ground in back of him to make hisarms serve as props for the upper half ofhis body. But both of his hands had not

touched ground. His right hand had comedown on a booted foot. And it was notone of the booted feet of Freddy's deadGerman. He was dumped down behindsome of the rubble a good five yardsaway.

Dave heard Freddy's excited question, buthis own tongue was stuck fast against theroof of his mouth. His right hand stillpressed down on the booted foot in thedarkness behind him. He knew, he couldfeel that there was a human foot inside theboot. And he also knew that the foot andits owner were dead!

"Dave—?"

"Steady, Freddy!" he whispered. "Get setfor another shock. My right hand's on thefoot of a dead man. I'm sure of it. A Naziboot. But—"

Dave had to stop and swallow hardbefore he could go on.

"But not a Nazi inside," he said with aneffort. "I think Jones showed up, Freddy,but—but he isn't going to be of any help tous, pal. We're right behind the eight ball.Right out on the limb, and somebodywaiting to saw it off."

As a matter of fact, Dave wasn'tconscious of whispering those words toFreddy. He spoke them without thinking

as he slowly turned around and felt withboth hands to confirm the terrible beliefin his brain. Freddy turned too. Theirhands touched several times as theyexplored the stiffened body stretched outon the ground. But neither of them spoke.Neither of them dared to, for fear theywouldn't be able to control their tongues,and start screaming crazy things at the topof their voices.

Eventually, though, Dave thought he couldtrust his own tongue to say what they bothknew, now.

"Jones," he got out. "It must be. A Germanuniform. Shot in the back. Uniform torn

and ripped to shreds. The rats searchedhim for any secret identification papers hemight be carrying. Please God that theydidn't find any!"

"Amen!" Freddy Farmer said in almost asob. "Of course you're right, Dave. It mustbe Jones, poor devil. Wonder whathappened? Wonder how they managed tocatch him? Blast this for a fine mess!"

"Another of this war's secrets that willprobably never be known," Dave said ina dull voice. "Why, and how, we'll neverknow, Freddy. But one thing is sure,according to the way I look at it. TheNazis in this area are wise to the fact that

something is up. Jones dead, here. Allthose patrols we had to sneak around.Freddy! I've got a darned strong hunchthat this particular spot is the mostunhealthy in all Occupied France for us.Maybe they didn't know that Jones was tocontact somebody here, but—"

"But we don't know if they do know!"Freddy finished the sentence.

"Right!" Dave whispered, and got up onone knee. "So, unless we want to beg forit, let's get distance from this spot, and getit fast. You with me?"

"Quite!" Freddy murmured, and gotquickly to his feet. "I say! How about my

beggar's machine gun? Think it wouldcome in handy?"

"No, leave it," Dave replied. "Travelingfast, and light, is our best bet. If we gotcornered, the gun wouldn't be much helpfor long. No, leave the darn thing. Butlet's get out of here, and—"

The rest froze on the end of Dave'stongue. In that instant he heard sounds ofrunning feet on the road. But the soundswere from more than one pair of runningfeet. Freddy Farmer heard them, too. Nota word was spoken. No time for words,now. Nor the need. Hands clasped formutual guidance, the two youths melted

across the dirt road to the other side, slidbehind some bushes that bordered theroad, and then stole forward in adirection parallel to the approachingrunning feet. When the running feet werealmost abreast, the two youths froze stiff,and held their collective breath. As nearas they could tell, six Nazi soldiers wentpounding past their place of concealment.They heard a few German grunts, butwere unable to catch the words that werespoken. As soon as the squad of Nazitroops had pounded by, the two youthsstruck off at right angles from the dirtroad, and travelled swiftly and silentlynorthward until they reached the shelter ofa thick woods. They sneaked in past the

first fringe of trees, and sank to the softground fighting for breath, and to ease offtheir pounding hearts.

For several minutes they simply lay therestretched out on the ground. Then, asthough at some secret inner signal, theysat up and stared brooding-eyed at thedarkness about them. It was then thatDave parted his lips to speak, but stoppedas they heard the faint shouting of manyvoices coming from the direction of theshelled church.

"That cooks it!" he spoke aloud. "Thatshouting means they've come across yourNazi, I think, Freddy. They know now that

somebody's around who shouldn't be."

"No doubt about it!" the English youthagreed bitterly. "And it means that we'dbetter be getting going again. But, goodgrief, where? They'll be crawling all overthe place, now that they know somethingis definitely wrong. Oh, blast it, what afine mess we've made of things! I almostwish my parachute hadn't opened. And tolose a perfectly good Spitfire just for this!Enough to make a chap weep!"

Dave leaned over and pushed his fistagainst his pal's ribs.

"Cut it out, Freddy, old sock!" hegrowled. "None of that kind of talk from

you. Not like you at all. We're not licked,kid, until Saint Peter swings wide thePearly Gates and invites us in. Get thatold chin up, pal!"

"It's up high enough, I fancy!" Freddymuttered. But with a heavy sigh, headded, "But it still makes me want tobreak down and weep. Should havebrought that sub-machine gun along afterall. We could at least take some of thebeggars along with us."

"Nuts to the patrolling Nazis!" Davesnapped. "We'll let them hunt for us untilthey're blue in the face. We've got thingsto do."

The English youth half turned and staredat him hard in the gloom.

"You haven't gone a little balmy, haveyou?" he demanded. "What have we gotto do, now? Jones is dead. He was to beour big link with the rest of the business.What have we got to do now, save keepclear of those searching for us as long aswe can? And it probably won't be any toolong, at that!"

"Boy, oh boy, are you sunk!" Dave saidwith a harsh chuckle. "Your Nazi musthave clouted you one on the head that Ididn't see. Sure we're getting out of here.In fact, pal, you and I are going to a spot

where those shouting bums over yonderwouldn't even think of looking for us,see?"

"No, I don't see," Freddy replied. "Justwhat are you driving at, anyway?"

"The middle of the enemy's camp, ofcourse!" Dave threw at him. "Sneezeaway those brain cobwebs, pal. The H.Q.of von Staube and von Gault, naturally!Aren't they the two birds we came overhere to collect, huh?"

Freddy Farmer sat up straight, and even inthe bad light Dave could see his poppingeyes.

"Good grief!" the English-born air acechoked out. "The H.Q. for von Staube andvon Gault, did you say?"

"You heard me!" Dave said firmly."Look, Freddy. Figure it out. Jones isgone. We're on our own now. So what arewe going to do? Let these darned Nazischase us around Occupied France allnight? Or head straight for von Staube andvon Gault, and—well, trust to luck thatwe'll get a break somehow? Me, I'm fordirect action, even if it does seemhopeless. Darned if I'm going to stumblearound in this darkness a couple of stepsahead of a bunch of Nazis. Jones is gone.So that puts it squarely up to us. I say,

let's give it a whirl. Heck, Freddy! That'sthe only thing we can do! Right?"

"Of course you're right, Dave," Freddysaid quietly. "Sorry I acted such a fooljust now. No doubt we're mad to think wecan accomplish anything. But—well, asyou say, let's give it a whirl."

"Atta boy!" Dave murmured, andsqueezed Freddy's arm. "But for cat'ssake, let's first get this cork black off ourfaces and hands. It won't help us now.And when I think of that Nazi snappingthat light in my face—Boy! I died athousand deaths in that split second.That's enough for one night. We play

strictly Jerry officers from now on. AndJerry officers don't go wandering aroundwith cork black all over them. So let's getit off."

Five minutes later both youths hadremoved every trace of the cork blackwith their handkerchiefs and some waterfrom the small canteen fitted to theirGerman army belts. They stood up andstudied Dave's compass with its radium-painted needle.

"North and bear a bit left," Dave said,and slipped the compass into his pocket."We're a good half mile from the shelledchurch. So we can't be more than a mile

from the edge of Evaux where the H.Q. islocated. Well, I guess there's nothing todo but get started."

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Vulture Nest

Dave Dawson stole a glance at his watchand saw that there was little more than anhour and a half until daylight. An hour anda half in which to accomplish somethingwhich, if things had only gone as planned,should have been cleaned up a good twohours before! He clamped his lips tight tochoke back the bitter groan that rose up inhis throat, and peered out from behind thethick clump of bushes at the scene that laybefore him.

He was hugging the ground on the southside of a small yet billiard table flat field.On the other side, and not two hundredyards from where he lay, was a group ofsmall buildings which marked thebeginning of the outskirts of the Frenchvillage of Evaux. In front of the group ofsmall buildings were half a dozenGerman Staff cars, motorcycles, a coupleof armored cars, and a hundred or moreGermans of all sizes and ranks. Busy beeactivity was in progress, too. Cars wererushing up a road that led out of somewoods, to brake scream to a halt in frontof the buildings, where the occupantswould leap out and go dashing inside. Adispatch rider would come tearing up on

his motorcycle, and practically throwhimself from it in his haste to get insidewith his dispatches. And twice an Aradoarmy cooperation plane slid down to alanding on the small flat field, and quicklytaxied over to join the general hubbub.

For thirty minutes, now, Freddy and hehad been hugging the ground out of sightof prying eyes and silently studying thelayout before them. And their thoughtswere far from happy ones. Somewhereover on the other side of the field, in oneof the buildings—and they had a prettyfair idea which one it was—FieldMarshal von Staube and LuftwaffeMarshal von Gault were receiving reports

at the rate of about one every five minuteson the progress of the United NationsCommando raid on the Le Havre area.How that raid was making out, neitherDave nor Freddy could tell. They couldhear the distant roar of coastal batteries,the crash of exploding bombs, and theterrific thunder of ammo dumps blowingup. And every once in a while they caughtthe echo of savage fighting in the air. Butwhat had been accomplished, and whathadn't been accomplished, were twothings beyond their knowledge at themoment.

"Thought up any plan yet, Dave?"

Freddy's quietly spoken question causedDave to start a little. He chewed on hislower lip for a moment, and then shookhis head.

"Not even close to an idea!" he grated."At least not one that would give us evena Chinaman's chance. How about you?"

"Mind a blasted blank!" the English youthsighed. "Getting von Staube and vonGault away from that crowd over therewould be as easy as getting Hitler out ofhis precious Berlin bomb shelter duringan R.A.F. raid. I haven't even seen eitherof them poke their noses outside yet. Andblast it! It'll be daylight soon."

Dave nodded soberly, turned slightly andstared toward the east. He was notlooking for the dawn, however. He waslooking at the very first thing he hadnoticed when Freddy and he had arrivedat the edge of this field. It was theDornier Do. Seventeen light bomberresting peacefully on the edge of the eastside of the field. There were a couple ofMesserschmitt One-Tens, and a singleOne-Nine, too, but Dave hardly gave thema glance. He stared longingly at theDornier, and his pounding heart weptbitter tears.

If only Jones had not met his Fate! If onlythe man had lived, and been able to play

his part in this life and death, victory anddefeat struggle. If only—But what was theuse of thinking about what might havebeen? The key man was gone. The onemain link to success was gone. Whetherthey won out or failed depended solelyupon Freddy Farmer and himself. Butwhat could Freddy and he do now? Whatpossible chance did they have againstsuch overwhelming odds? How in theworld could they be expected to performthe absolutely impossible? They wereonly human. They weren't miracle menwho could simply snap their fingers, and,presto, magic was done. They—

For an instant his eyes strayed to one of

the Messerschmitt One-Tens. There wasan avenue of escape for Freddy andhimself. Just a couple of guards watchingover those planes over there. They couldbe taken care of in short order, andFreddy and he could get one of thoseOne-Tens in the air and be on their wayback to England before the others realizedwhat was taking place. Sure they could!And they could explain to Major Barberhow they'd found Jones dead, how theyhad been chased all night by Nazisoldiers, and how it would have simplybeen asking for certain death to attempt tokidnap von Staube and von Gault undersuch impossible circumstances. Darnedright! They'd tell Major Barber—

Dave clamped down hard on his whirlingthoughts, and his whole body grew hotwith shame. A fine soldier he was! Justabout as much courage as a new bornrabbit. Just a quitter. Afraid he might gethurt? Afraid he might get killed? My, my,what a pity! Well, never mind. Just go onhome, and Major Barber would pat himsympathetically on the back, and say notto worry, and that it was really too muchto have asked of any man. Yes, yes. Justgo to sleep, my little man. And sweetdreams! Maybe some day somebody elsewill grab von Staube and von Gault, andthen everything will be just dandy!

"Dave! What in the world's the matter

with you? Your face is as red as a beet!Don't you feel all right?"

Freddy Farmer's anxious words snappedDave out of his bitter reverie. He stoppedlooking at the Messerschmitts and met hispal's gaze.

"Just learning how a guy can get to hatehimself," he said evenly. "But skip it. Idon't want to talk about it. Freddy?"

"Yes, Dave?"

The Yank-born air ace hesitated andstared for a moment over toward the otherside of the field.

"When a fellow can't figure out a plan,"he presently said slowly, "the only thingto do is to wade in swinging with bothhands, and hope that some kind of a planwill pop up. You agree with that?"

"Quite," the English youth said evenly."Fact is, I was just going to say that Ithink it's a bit too late, now, to botherabout thinking up a plan. I think we shouldsimply go on over there, and—well, trustto luck, I guess, that we'll meet up with abit of luck. Maybe it's silly, and stupid,and—"

Freddy paused and shrugged hisshoulders helplessly.

"It is all of that," Dave said, and absentlywiped beads of sweat from his forehead."But that's how it is. Me, I'm sick ofplaying Indians and cowboys, crawlingaround in the dark, and getting no place.I'm for barging right into the business.And if we get caught on the wrong end ofa gun, then—then that'll be that."

"Let's stroll around the west side of thefield," Freddy said, and started to get uponto his feet. "A chance those guards bythe planes might get a bit curious, youknow. I've noticed that none of the othershave gone near them."

"Strictly for Staff use, is my guess," Dave

grunted as he got up too. "Just in casesomething pops around here, von Staubeand von Gault are making sure they'll getout fast. Makes Nazi generals sore as thedickens to get killed, you know. Can'tstrut any more, or order women andchildren hostages shot, or have any kindof fun. They—Jeepers! Holy smokes!That's an idea!"

"What?" Freddy demanded. "Shootingwomen and children hostages, and—"

"No, heck no!" Dave shot at him as theymoved along toward the west side of thefield. "Just had a sudden idea. But I've gotto mull over it a little before it would

make sense. And speaking of sense, goodsense—"

"Is there a place for that sort of thing,now?" Freddy asked in a bitter voice.

"Darned right there is!" Dave said. "Let'suse our heads before we lose them.Beginning with now, pal, we don't know aword of the English language. We talkstrictly German from here in. Right?"

"Absolutely!" Freddy gasped. "Stupid ofus, of course. Right you are, mein Herr!German it shall be."

The two air aces lapsed into thoughtfulsilence, and walked along the edge of the

small field, and around the west sidetoward the cluster of Headquartersbuildings. With every step he took Dave'sheart was up in his throat, and poundingfuriously. They were beginning to meetGerman soldiers and officers now, and hewas filled with the gnawing fear that theywould be stopped and challenged. Afterall, even the boastful, cocksure Nazisdon't allow everybody to wander about anH.Q. location.

It so happened, though, that they were notchallenged once. Those they met eitherbelieved they had a perfect right to bestrolling along, or else they were too busywith their own thoughts to notice them.

Anyway, they were able to keep right ongoing, and eventually were part of agroup of Germans gathered in front of thecenter building in the cluster. They stoodclose together and listened intently to theflow of excited conversation. And whatthey heard brought happiness to theiraching hearts, and made them thrill withpride clear down to the soles of theirboots. Obviously the United NationsCommando attack was going very badlyfor the Nazis. Practically all of Le Havrewas in Commando hands. Nazifortifications there, U-boat repair docks,and stores of Nazi military equipment hadbeen blown sky high. And theCommandos were spreading out to the

north, south, and east like the unleashedwaters of a flood tide. In addition Naziair strength had been more or less bottledup and securely corked. Those cursedAmerican bombers! Flying Fortresses,they were called. Nothing seemed able toshoot them out of the air! And theirbombs? Something terrible!

It went on and on like that. And Dave andFreddy had all they could do to forcegrave, worried looks to their faces, wheninstead they wanted to dance and shoutwith joy. But though the group of Naziswere worried, and plenty, over the waythings were going, they still had that blinddog-like faith in their high ranking

officers. From a score of lips Dave andFreddy heard statements that the enemygains were only temporary at the most.That von Staube and von Gault weresimply biding their time, and would striketheir counter blows soon. Yes, vonStaube had called up powerfulreenforcements. They were now on theway to the zone of battle. And von Gaultwas massing powerful air squadrons, alltypes. Ja, ja! Germany's swine enemieswere fools to believe that Der Fuehrerhad sent most of Germany's air power tothe Russian front. The cursed UnitedNations forces would soon realize that, asGerman bombs blew them clear out intothe Channel. But of course! Ah! Look!

Here comes another courier plane. It isprobably good news this time! Yes! Seehow fast he lands! He must have goodnews this time, and be eager to report it.

Dave and Freddy watched with the othersas another Arado plane came streakingdown to a fast landing, and taxied upclose at quite a bit of throttle. A figureleaped from the rear cockpit and wentdashing in through the door of the centerbuilding. Dave and Freddy crowded overto the door with the others. Unfortunately,though, it was slammed shut in their faces.The Germans outside looked sheepishlyat each other and moved away a little.Dave and Freddy played their part in the

general scene and started to edge aroundto a point where they might get a quicklook in through one of the side windowsof the building. After all, they didn't knowfor sure that von Staube and von Gaultwere inside. They were actually onlyassuming; taking it for granted that suchwas the case.

And so, as though by unspoken but mutualagreement, they began to edge away fromthe general throng and round to the side ofthe building. But they had barely reachedthe corner when suddenly a wicked-looking Nazi Major loomed up beforethem to bar the way. Dave's heart skippeda beat, and when he took a good look at

the German his heart skipped a couple ofmore beats and started sliding down inthe general direction of his boots. TheNazi, by the insignia on his tunic,belonged to the same regiment that Daveand Freddy were supposed to belong to.Was there any reason why a Majorshouldn't be able to recognize two of hisjunior officers? There was none, ofcourse. And Dave felt as though he werestaring certain death right in the face.

"What are you two doing here?" Thewords came out like pistol shots. "DidHerr Colonel send you? A message forme, perhaps? I am needed back there? Idon't know you, so you must be two of

those new officers they sent us yesterday.Your names?"

"Ober-Leutnants Kloss and Mueller,Herr Major," Dave heard his voice say.Then wildly grasping at a straw of hope,he went on, "That is true, sir. HerrColonel sent us with his compliments. Hewishes that you return as fast aspossible."

The Nazi Major scowled and lookedterribly angry, and for a long second thewhole world seemed to stand dead stillfor Dave. He felt as if he were walkingalong a tightrope over a yawning chasm.Only there wasn't any tightrope there.Somebody had yanked it away, and hewas simply hovering in mid-air before hewent crashing down to his doom. Thevery next words that came from the NaziMajor's lips might well spell doom forFreddy and for himself. If the Nazi askedquestions they couldn't answer—if—

"Very well!" The words were suddenlybarked out. "I will do as the Colonelwishes. You two remain here, however.

Take this report and see that it isdelivered to Field Marshal von Staubethe instant he is free to see you. He knowsthat I am waiting. You will explain that Iwas needed at the regiment'sHeadquarters. Simply give him the report,and then return to your posts as fast aspossible. This is not a leave you are on,you know. Well? Did they not teach youto salute your superiors at that officer'sschool? They are sending us merechildren these days!"

The Major had jerked a sealed envelopefrom his tunic pocket, thrust it into Dave'shands, and was standing there glaring atthem both. With a tremendous effort Dave

and Freddy snapped out of it, clickedtheir heels, and almost tore their arms offsaluting. The Nazi grunted, glared somemore, and then went strutting offbellowing a name. The name of hischauffeur, probably.

For a minute longer the two boys juststood there as though their boots werenailed to the ground. Then they turned andstared at each other, neither quite sure thathe wasn't just asleep and going through acrazy dream.

"Don't ever hope for luck again!" Davefinally broke the silence. "We've playedout our string, Freddy. Nothing that ever

happens from now on could possibly topthis. My gosh, my gosh! I'm soaking wetwith my own sweat. I thought I was goingto fall into a fear faint for sure. And myhair is pure white, isn't it?"

"Grab hold of me, Dave, and hang onhard!" Freddy said hoarsely. "I'm afraidI'll start running and keep running until I'mmiles from this spot. Good grief, whatluck! All we have to do is wait a bit, andthen get invited right in there with them."

"Sure!" Dave muttered. "And then what,pal?"

A lot of the happiness drained right out ofFreddy Farmer's face. He slowly sucked

air into his lungs, and then promptlysighed heavily.

"Quite!" he murmured. "And then what?The beggars will no doubt have others inthere with them. And what in the worldcan we do about it?"

"I don't know, yet," Dave grunted. "But—but we've got to do something, even if it'sletting them have it in cold blood, Freddy.Major Barber wants them kidnapped, but—"

Dave finished the rest with a shrug and agesture of his hands. Freddy Farmer madea wry face and swallowed quickly acouple of times.

"Yes, of course!" he got out with aneffort. "It's war, and war's a beastlybusiness. Still—"

"Me, too, pal," Dave said softly. "I hopewith all my heart and soul we can figuresome way. But one thing we're pledged toas loyal Commandos, Freddy. Those twogo out of the war picture today, one way—or another."

Freddy Farmer didn't make any comment.He simply looked Dave in the eye, andnodded silently.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Eagles' Courage

"If we have to wait any longer, Dave, Iswear I'll fly apart in small pieces. Thisblasted suspense is getting me downsomething awful!"

Dave grinned at his English pal, and gavehim a comforting nudge with his elbow.

"That makes two of us," he whispered."But it's been only fifteen minutes, youknow."

"Fifteen years!" Freddy corrected. "Andlook at that sun coming up! The more lightaround here, the tougher it's going to befor us, you know."

"You're telling me?" Dave murmured, andsquinted at the first rays of dawn lightstealing westward across the face of thatpart of France. "Swiping one of thoseNazi planes in the dark is hard enough.But in broad daylight—well, let's notthink about that little item. I sure wish,though, that—"

Dave never finished the rest of thatstatement. At that moment the door of thecenter building was jerked open and a

fashion plate uniformed Nazi StaffCaptain stood framed in the doorway. Heswept black, cruel-looking eyes over theofficers and men grouped about, andscowled angrily.

"Herr Major von Kummil!" he cried outin a rasping voice. "Herr Major vonKummil! Are you out here? Herr FieldMarshal wants you at once!"

As the Nazi barked the words he jerkedhis head from side to side like a spectatorwatching the flight of the ball in a tennismatch. Dave hesitated, then nudgedFreddy Farmer.

"I think that means us," he whispered.

"That's probably the Major who told us towait. We've got to chance it, anyway.Right?"

The English youth simply nodded, andstarted pushing through the group outsidethe door. Dave was right at his heels.They stopped a few steps from the black-eyed captain, and saluted.

"Herr Major von Kummil was recalled toregimental Headquarters by HerrColonel," Freddy spoke up in perfectGerman. "He instructed us to wait forHerr Field Marshal's pleasure."

The Nazi Captain stared down at them asthough they were something the cat had

dragged in. Then, as his gaze fell on thesealed envelope Dave held in his hand,his eyes took on a bright gleam. But Davebeat him to the punch.

"Our instructions were to deliver this inperson, Herr Captain," Dave said.

"That is true," Freddy echoed. Then hesuddenly added, "And besides, HerrCaptain, I have been ordered to make myown report by word of mouth. It isimpossible to put it in writing."

For a split second Dave thought thatFreddy's words were simply to make surethat they both were admitted inside. Butas he flashed a quick look at his pal and

saw the odd look on Freddy's face, hisheart looped over and the blood started topound through his veins. Freddy was upto just more than getting inside thatHeadquarters building! There wassomething much, much more importantthan just that, in Freddy's head. Dave hadonly time for a quick look, but it wasenough to tell him that Freddy was up tosomething.

"So?" the Nazi Captain suddenly got outin a sneering tone. "Very well, then.Come in, both of you. But do not be toolong. Say what you have to say, and don'twaste words, you understand?"

Dave nodded meekly, but trust FreddyFarmer to have his little final say! Freddycoldly returned the senior officer's looks,and then put just the faintest touch ofsarcasm in his reply.

"But certainly not, Herr Captain!" hesaid. "It is not for me to add to DerFuehrer's orders!"

"Der Fuehrer?" the Nazi Captain gasped,and stood there with his black eyespopping, and his bird-like mouth hangingopen.

Freddy let it go at that. He nodded toDave and then calmly led the way past thegaping Captain and in through the door.

By the time they were inside a shortnarrow hallway, the Nazi had collectedhis wits.

"This way," he said, and led them downthe hallway, and through double doorsthat opened off the right.

For some crazy reason the first thing thatcame to Dave's brain as he was usheredinto a fairly big room was the quiteunimportant realization that Freddy and hehad actually been edging toward thewrong side of the building when they hadbumped into that Nazi Major. They wouldundoubtedly have gained nothing had theybeen able to peek through the windows on

that side.

That thought came and went, and then hewas taking notice of other things thatreally were important. The room wasexactly like other Nazi militaryHeadquarters he had seen during his warcareer. Maps covered with little coloredflags. A bank of field phones. Shortwaveradio sets. Memos, dispatches, letters andany number of other kinds of militarypapers scattered all over the place. Butthe main attraction, of course, was thehuge double desk at which sat the twoNazi high rankers who had beenpersonally responsible for ninety per centof Adolf Hitler's blood triumphs to date.

On one side was Field Marshal vonStaube, lumpy, beefy, with a sweating redface, bald head, and neck the thickness ofa telephone pole. And on the other sidesat Luftwaffe Marshal von Gault, lookinglike a half starved vulture about to strike.His cruel, hawkish face was absolutelyblood chilling to behold, and it was allDave could do to suppress the shudderthat started through him. The Number Oneand Number Two killers of the ThirdReich. Adolf Hitler's two butchers.Himmler, of the infamous Gestapo, actedlike a sweet little old lady when his actswere compared with the killing andplunder performed under the command ofthese two.

Dave looked at them, and his handtwitched as he had the sudden desire to gofor the small but deadly automatic hecarried in his tunic pocket. NeitherFreddy nor he wanted to end it that way.But they would be true to their mutualvow. Though it cost them all the torturethe Nazis could inflict upon them, todaywould be the last day of war for FieldMarshal von Staube and LuftwaffeMarshal von Gault. These two wouldnever—

"Well, have you lost your tongues? Whatare you here for? Where is your Majorvon Kummil? Speak up! Can you twoyoung fools not see that I am busy?"

It was von Staube who spoke the words.Yet that is not quite right. He did notexactly speak them. His voice soundedmore like an express train going through atunnel. Dave stepped quickly forward,saluted with one hand, and held out thesealed envelope with the other.

"Herr Major von Kummil was recalled,Herr Field Marshal," he said. "We wereintrusted to deliver this to you."

The German high ranker growled in histhroat, snatched the envelope from Dave'shand, stabbed a thick finger under the flapopening and ripped viciously. He took outa fold of papers inside, glanced through

them quickly, and then hurled the lotdown on the desk.

"Fools!" he thundered. "Swine stupidfools! To tell me this by courier, when itcould have been spoken over thetelephone an hour ago! What do I careabout the condition of your reserves?Should I tell the enemy to wait until weare ready to give them battle? Should I sithere and wait until arms and battleequipment have been issued to everyGerman soldier. Mein Herr! What am Icommanding? German armies or packs offools?"

The German bellowed the questions

straight at Dave, and pounded his fat fistson the desk. Beads of sweat flew from hisface, and his color mounted to where itseemed impossible that he wouldn'texplode in small pieces in the nextinstant. Dave tried to think of somethingto say, but the German seemed not to wantanswers to his questions. He probablydidn't even realize that he was lookingstraight at Dave. He was too busy withthoughts about something, some part of hisplans, that had gone higher than a kite.

"Fools, stupid dogs!" he went right onroaring. "I order something, and I getnothing but words by courier! Well, weshall see about that. We shall see.

There'll be a few swine heads fall beforethis day is done. And they will not allbelong to our enemies. The—"

Words failed the big fat German FieldMarshal. He dropped back into his deskchair mumbling and gurgling sounds thatdidn't make any sense. Dave noticed thatvon Gault was watching von Staubeclosely, but there was just a shade ofworry in the Luftwaffe Marshal's crueleyes. Perhaps von Gault had gone throughthis thing before, with disastrous resultsto himself. After all, von Staube wasNumber One. Anyway, the LuftwaffeMarshal was watching his partner inworld wide crime closely, and was not

looking at all happy.

Suddenly, though, as if a completelydifferent person had sat down in FieldMarshal von Staube's chair, the red ragefaded from the German's face. He pickedup the scattered papers and gave themanother look. He scowled, tugged at hislower lip, and massaged his fat chin alittle. Then he raised his eyes to vonGault's face.

"Perhaps it will not alter things much," hesaid. "Von Alder is not one to depend on,anyway. We will use the Sixth, Tenth, andFourteenth, instead. All seasoned troops.They will probably do the job much

better, anyway. But that von Alder. Thatone! How he will hear of this!"

The German Field Marshal checkedhimself as though suddenly realizing thatDave and Freddy were still standingthere. He turned and gave them a curt nod.

"Return to your regiment!" he growled.

Dave started to salute and turn to leave,suddenly thankful of the chance to get outof there, and fast. But he didn't go all theway around. First he saw Freddy Farmerstill standing at stiff attention. And next hesaw the Nazi Captain's black eyes fixedsteadfastly and questioningly on theEnglish youth. It was then Dave

remembered Freddy's crazy remark to theCaptain. His heart stood still, and heimpulsively moved his hand a little sothat he could get at his pocketed gun thatmuch quicker. Was this the show-down?Was Freddy going to make this the show-down? Would both of them have to blazeaway in cold murder—Nazi style?

It seemed to Dave that he lived a thousandyears standing there half turned to go outthe door. Then von Staube's boomingvoice exploded through the silence.

"Didn't you hear my orders?" hethundered at the motionless Freddy."Return to your regiment!"

"Your pardon, Herr Field Marshal," theEnglish youth spoke up bold as brass,while ice formed about Dave's heart. "Ihave a report of my own. It has nothing todo with this other thing. May I ask, HerrField Marshal, if your pilots havereported to you?"

Stunned silence spread over the room likea thick heavy blanket. Both von Staubeand von Gault stiffened. So did the black-eyed Captain. As a matter of fact, so didDave Dawson. And he was suddenlyfilled with the wild desire to catch upFreddy, and sling him over his shoulder,and make a dash for it. Freddy had gonenuts! Maybe a blow on the head when he

had taken care of that Nazi soldier backby the shelled church. But Freddy wasdefinitely off his trolley! What in theworld did he think he was saying?

"My pilots reported to us?" Field Marshalvon Staube echoed. "Of course. Why?Why do you want to know?"

For a second or so Freddy just looked atthe German, then switched his gaze to vonGault.

"You know them all personally, HerrLuftwaffe Marshal?" he shot out thequestion. "You selected them, perhaps?"

The Luftwaffe Marshal looked angry,

baffled, and just a little scared. He wethis lips a couple of times before hespoke. And when he did his voice washigh and strained, as though it were aneffort to get the words out.

"Herr Captain Kohle and Leutnant vonStebbins have been the two stationed herefor weeks," he replied. "Of course I knowthem! Of course I appointed them asHeadquarters pilots. What is the meaningof this?"

"A precaution," Freddy answered quietly."Der Fuehrer's orders, at HerrHimmler's request. It is the Gestapo'seternal job to safeguard the lives of

Germans valuable to the Third Reich!"

"Gestapo?" Field Marshal von Staubepractically blew up with wrath. "This is awar zone. This is Army Headquarters. Itis for the cursed Gestapo to—!"

The German stumbled to a stop, and justsat glaring at Freddy Farmer, anddrumming his fingertips on the desk. For asplit second Dave almost wanted to laughout loud. If all this wasn't so deadlyserious, it would be funny. The GermanArmy Staff and Himmler's Gestapo werelike two tomcats on a back yard fence.They hated each other, but each knew thatthe other was very necessary to the

German Reich. But of the two it was theGerman Army Staff who feared the most.Himmler had the inside track with Hitler.He had the Fuehrer's ear. And more thanone German Staff head had gone rollinginto the basket because that high rankerhad tried to freeze out Herr Himmler. No,the German Army Staff didn't like theGestapo one bit, but there was little theycould do about it, yet. Just as long asHerr Himmler held Adolf Hitler's trustand confidence, it was well for thegenerals to watch their step!

And so Field Marshal von Staube chokedoff what he would like to have said, andjust glowered and glared at Freddy.

"So, Gestapo, eh?" he suddenly blurtedout with a sneer he couldn't hold back. "Isuppose you suspect that spies aremembers of my Staff, eh?"

But Freddy didn't walk into the trap. Heknew perfectly well that a Gestapomember as young as he looked wouldn'tknow too much.

"I suspect no one, Herr Field Marshal,"he said with stiff respectfulness. "I haveonly been given my orders to carry out. Ifyou wish to complain to Herr Himmler?There is the phone. He is in his BerlinHeadquarters now."

Dave held his breath. Was Freddy

begging for death? He must be mad. Hewas mad! What in thunderation was hetrying to pull off? What did Freddy thinkall this insane business was going to getthem? Dave didn't have the ghost of anidea. But whatever it was, it was allFreddy's party now. Dave didn't darespeak a word, or do anything. But whenhe glanced at his pal and saw the typicalcold haughtiness of the Gestapo thatseemed to surround the English youth, awild thrill raced through him. Perhaps—just perhaps—Freddy wasn't out of hismind. Maybe he did have something bythe tail.

At any rate, the bluff worked. Field

Marshal von Staube made no move toreach for one of the many phones. AndDave felt a little as though he had beenreborn. No, not reborn. More like acondemned man who has received a stayof execution.

"I will make my complaints at the righttime, and in the right places!" the GermanField Marshal suddenly boomed. "Well?What is your mission here, anyway? Whatabout Herr Luftwaffe Marshal von Gault'spilots? What about them?"

Freddy Farmer made as though to reachinto his upper left tunic pocket, butseemed to change his mind.

"Perhaps nothing, Herr Field Marshal,"he said evenly. "However, there are oneor two questions I should like to ask HerrCaptain Kohle and Herr Leutnant vonStebbins. In your presence, of course, sir.And yours, too, Herr Luftwaffe Marshalvon Gault. This much I can say. If theyspeak the truth, their answers to myquestions may be very interesting, andenlightening."

Von Staube scowled still more deeply,drummed his fingers on the desk somemore, and then looked across at vonGault. He seemed to see something in theother's eyes, though von Gault didn't nodor shake his head.

"Herr Captain!" von Staube suddenlyroared at the black-eyed officer. "Go findthe two officers mentioned, and bringthem here at once. Just that, mind you!Bring them here, and keep your mouthshut!"

"At once, Herr Field Marshal!" theCaptain gasped, and went out the door asthough he had been kicked.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Steel Nerves

When the German Captain slammed shutthe door behind him, and there weresounds of his footsteps along the halloutside, Dave slowly let locked air fromhis lungs and stole another glance atFreddy Farmer. The English-born air acestill stood at rigid attention, but there wasnot even a flicker of fear in his face. Hisexpression was one of perfect coolnessand calmness. It was as though he wentthrough this sort of thing every day in the

week, and doing it again were just a weebit boring.

The two German high rankers stared atFreddy in sullen anger. But it was plain tosee that neither of them had the desire toexert their supreme authority at themoment. In fact, it was a perfect pictureof the Nazi system. The Army Staff vs theGestapo. And the Gestapo was holdingthe whip hand because of events whichhad taken place in the past. Perhaps someday, when the Army Staff was sitting inthe saddle, and was Adolf Hitler'sfavorite for the moment, Gestapo headswould drop like apples shaken from thetree. Right now, though, the Gestapo was

the so-called power behind the throne.And so von Staube and von Gault werefeeling their way—cautiously.

However, nuts to the German Army Staff!And likewise, nuts to the Gestapo! Whatwas Freddy Farmer's game? What crazyinsane goal did he think he was shootingat, anyway? Darn him for not giving out asingle hint, or a tip-off. The least Freddycould do would be to shoot him a quicklook that would tell him a littlesomething. But, no! Freddy was acting asthough he didn't know that Dave existed.

Worry and anger boiled around in theYank-born air ace. Past friendship and

experience told him, or at least tried totell him, that Freddy hadn't suddenlyblown his top; that he wasn't crazy, andknew exactly what he was doing. But ifDave only had some idea, then he wouldknow how to play his part. But thiswaiting, this nerve-tingling silence! Davewondered a little if he weren't goingcrazy himself. He swallowed and pressedhis wrist comfortingly against the smallgun in his pocket. And he pressed theupper half of his other arm against thehardness of his sheathed Commando knifehanging from his shoulder under hisGerman tunic. If worse came to worse, he—

At that moment Freddy Farmer suddenlyhad a fit of coughing. He bent over a littleand put one hand to his mouth. The twoGermans looked at him in a sort of colddelight. But Dave didn't notice theirlooks. His gaze was fixed on Freddy. Andsuddenly his heart gave a great leap, andtingling warmth shot through him. Freddyhad turned his head slightly, and for thefraction of a second their eyes met. But itwas long enough for Dave to catch thequick half wink; to see the second andthird fingers of Freddy's other handquickly cross and uncross.

True, it told Dave nothing of his pal'sgame. But that didn't matter too much,

now. At least he knew for sure thatFreddy was playing a wild game, and thathe was not completely crazy. There wasmethod in his apparent madness, and hehad signalled to Dave to be ready foranything, and to pray hard for a bit ofluck.

Freddy had gained control of his coughingwhen the door opened and the Captaincame in with the two Luftwaffe pilots.They were both young, and not bad-looking—for Germans. They clicked theirheels and practically jerked themselvesapart saluting von Staube and von Gault.

The Nazi Field Marshal simply answered

with a grunt, and then fixed his angry eyeson Freddy's face.

"Captain Kohle, and Lieutenant vonStebbins," he said in a voice that wasmostly a snarl. "Ask them your questions,but be quick about it. We soldiers havestill a battle to fight!"

Freddy nodded stiffly, then backed up afew steps to a point where he could get abetter look at the two new arrivals. As amatter of fact, he backed up to a pointwhere he commanded an unobstructedview of the entire room. And also a pointthat put him not two feet from Dave'sside.

"Ready, Dave! Gun and knife!"

Had Freddy spoken? Or was it a trick ofhis imagination? The thought questionflashed through Dave's brain. And then hesaw the lightning-like movements ofFreddy Farmer's hands. A gun appearedin the English youth's right hand, and hisCommando knife appeared in his left,perfectly gripped and balanced to be shotforward like a flash of light. In the nextinstant Dave had his own gun andCommando knife out, and he was listeningto Freddy's even voice tossing words atthe dumbfounded, stunned quintet ofNazis.

"Not a move, if any of you want to live!We're Commandos! There are othersoutside. This whole area is surrounded byCommandos. If you want to resist, goahead. We've been training a long timef o r this little occasion. You! Don'tmove!"

The last was because the German StaffCaptain had half jerked up one arm. Itwas probably an impulsive gesture ofterror. If it wasn't, terror was mostcertainly on his face a split instant later.Freddy Farmer's left hand shot forwardwith a twisting, whipping motion. And theCommando knife wasn't there any more. Itwas a streak of light that went across the

room and pinned the sleeve of the GermanCaptain's tunic to the wall. The Nazilooked at it, and almost fainted. The otherfour gasped in terror.

"Commandos!"

Field Marshal von Staube half chokedand half sobbed out the words. Freddygave him a cold hard stare, then calmlywalked around in back of Dave, so as notto block off his Yank pal, and went overto the German Captain and jerked hisknife free.

"Yes, Commandos!" he barked at theField Marshal. "With a job to do, oneway or the other. Which way is up to you.

Dave! There're two of these beggars wedon't need. This Captain and the youngpilot Lieutenant. Take care of them, willyou, while I keep an eye on the others?"

Freddy didn't look at Dave as he quietlyspoke the words in English. But he didn'thave to. Dave knew exactly what wasneeded of him. And whether it madesense didn't matter. It was still FreddyFarmer's party, and he had gone throughtoo many war experiences with hisEnglish pal to bother asking questionsuntil afterward. And so, careful not to getinto Freddy's line of fire, he quicklycircled about the room to the GermanCaptain. The Nazi's eyes were glazed

with terror, and then they were closingshut as he folded silently to the floor.Dave's swift, neat clip behind the earwith the barrel of his gun would havebrought words of praise from anyCommando. But Dave wasn't expectingpraise, or even thinking about it. He tookanother step and repeated the littlemaneuver on the Luftwaffe Lieutenant. Ashe pulled wire and gags from his pocket,and started to bend down, Freddy stoppedhim.

"We might need that chap's tunic, Dave.Strip it off, first."

Dave did that little thing. And then, in less

time than it takes to tell about it, he boundand gagged both unconscious Germans,and rolled them over against the wall.

"Who's next, Doctor?" he asked,straightening up and grinning at Freddy."What next?"

The English youth didn't answer. His gazewas riveted on the two German highrankers, and the youthful LuftwaffeCaptain. The latter seemed on the point ofdropping into a dead faint. FreddyFarmer's little Commando knife trick hadobviously drained every drop of couragefrom his body. It was not so, however,with von Staube and von Gault. True, they

were not moving a single muscle, andthere was a marked trace of fear in theireyes. Just the same they were trained andseasoned soldiers. They were notcompletely cowards in the face of death.As Dave snapped a glance their way, hisheart turned over, and his mouth went abit bone dry. The two high rankersseemed to be silently gauging theirchances. They seemed to be deciding justwhat move to make first. Dave grippedhis gun tighter, and beat back the revoltingthoughts that tried to crowd into his brain.If it was to be cold-blooded murder, thenso be it. He and Freddy were Commandosnow. And Commandos give no quarter,and ask none. The job is the thing. The

method of performing it is secondary!

"You will not leave here alive! Yourealize that, don't you, you swineCommandos?"

It was von Staube who spoke, but Daveinstantly noticed that the Nazi high rankerwas careful not to speak in his naturalbooming voice. He wanted to be brave,but he wanted less—to die.

"Of course we realize it!" Freddy Farmertold him quietly. "We realized that beforewe even started across tonight. But let mepoint out something, Herr Field Marshal,a nd Herr Luftwaffe Marshal. You areboth seasoned soldiers, so you will

understand about men obeying orders. Wewere ordered to capture you two, anddeliver you to our commanding officerwho waits not half a mile from this spot.We were ordered to capture and deliveryou, or—or to deliver evidence that youwould no longer be of any use to yourFuehrer!"

Silence settled over the room as Freddyfinished. The muscles of each German'sface twitched, but Dave was quick to seethat they weren't quite completelyimpressed. He saw a part he could play,and he was quick to take advantage of itwhile the two Nazi Marshals were on theuneasy seat. He stepped forward quickly,

and whipped down with his Commandoknife. It twanged into the desk topbetween the third and fourth fingers ofvon Gault's left hand that happened to beresting motionless on the desk. TheLuftwaffe Marshal gasped, butswallowed the cry of fright as Dave's guncame within ten inches of his thin,hawkish nose.

"Your left hand, and his, too!" Davegrated, and jerked his knife free. "Youeach wear a Nazi Staff ring. Your lefthands, still wearing the ring, and theinsignia from your tunics, will beevidence enough to convince ourcommanding officer that we have fulfilled

our mission."

"Quite!" Freddy added in a brittle voice."True, we may be killed as we race toreach our unit hiding in the woods. Butthat's the chance we take. They will reachour dead bodies, at least. And ourcommanding officer will see the severedhands, and the Staff rings, and the insigniafrom your tunics. He will know that wehave performed our assignment."

"Why waste time?" Dave suddenly askedimpatiently, and gestured with hisCommando knife. "These two don't feardeath that much. They'd never agree to theother way."

Dave was only making blind shots in thedark, but he prayed that Freddy wouldn'tspeak. And his prayer was answered.Freddy didn't say a word. He simply keptstaring at the Germans and let the tormentof silence do its stuff. And it did, right upto the hilt. Dave could almost look insidethe skulls of the two Germans, and see thewheels spinning over. It was a case of theshoe being on the other foot, for thosetwo. Hideous slaughter, and death, werepart of their training. But it was somethingt ha t they ordered, or performed. Totorture and maim beyond the point ofhuman endurance was fun for them. Theyloved it. It was a major part of their rottenlives; their vile existence on earth.

But the shoe was on the other foot now.They were to be on the receiving end oftheir own type of work. They weren't upagainst trained soldiers who killed, orcaptured, and sent their prisoners to a warcamp. They were up against a new kind ofenemy in this war. The Commando! TheCommando trained to fight them at theirown kind of battle, but with far, far moredevastating effect. The Commando! Thevery name struck terror these days to anyGerman's heart. Motionless shadows inthe night who killed you before you couldpart your lips to cry out. Black phantomswho came and went like flashes oflightning. Tough men, hard as nails, whopressed triggers and then took a look to

see what they'd bagged. And a good manytimes they didn't even bother to look. TheCommando! The warrior who carrieddeath in either hand, and could let it flyfrom any angle, and in any spot!

That's what Dave saw those two Germanhigh rankers thinking. He saw the fearmount in them. The first signs were a fainttwitching of the lips, then throat musclesswallowing, and then fingers quiveringslightly. And lastly, beads of sweatbecoming too heavy, and tricklingdownward over the skin of their faces.Yes, the Germans were trained soldiers.They could not be classed as rankcowards. They did have a courage of

their own. But this? The shoe was on theother foot, this time!

"What is the other way?" von Staubesuddenly croaked at Dave.

The Yank let him stew a little longer, andthen spoke to Freddy without turning hishead.

"You tell him," he said. "You're incommand here."

"Quite a simple way," Dave heard hisEnglish pal say. "You can come with us,if you don't wish us to take the evidencewith us."

Both Germans smiled. They weresuddenly very relieved and happy. Davehad a funny feeling in the middle of hisstomach, but Freddy spoke again, and thefunny feeling went away.

"Pleases you, eh?" the English youthmurmured. "Sorry, but it won't work outquite that way. No one will see us leave.That is, I hope not, for your sakes. Thisrear door—we're leaving that way. If wemeet anybody, you will be wise to donothing. Not a sign or a look. We will bewith you, very close. You see theseCommando knives? We spent hourssharpening them. Quite a scientificprocess, you know. And so effective. The

blade goes in and up at a slant, justmissing the backbone. The needle tippunctures the heart. Not too much, ofcourse. They trained us thoroughly, youknow. And—But why should I explain toyou two? You know all about that sort ofthing, of course. Death comes so slowly—and so frightfully painfully. Worse thana bullet in the stomach, they say. Ofcourse, if that has to happen, then mycomrade and I will have to shootwhoever is in our way—collect our bitsof evidence as quickly as we can—andrun for it. I fancy we'll make it closeenough to the woods to be reached by theothers. I hope your other chaps will giveus a decent funeral. We're Christians, you

know. We're—"

"Enough, enough!" von Staube got out in astrangled voice. "You do not need to paintthe picture, you swine. We will do as yousay. We are your prisoners. Ja! Ja! Is notthat plain enough?"

Freddy didn't answer. He gave them somemore of the silence treatment. So Daveplayed another random shot.

"I don't know." He spoke in German outof the corner of his mouth at Freddy. "Idon't trust any German. Why run theadditional risks? Besides, taking themback to England simply means that ourside will have to feed them. That's

wasting good food. I'm all for—"

"No! Not that! We are your prisoners. Wethrow ourselves upon your mercy!"

The last tiny shred of courage in vonGault had been melted away. TheLuftwaffe Marshal was half insane withterror. He was trembling like a leaf, andat the same time striving frantically tostill his muscles for fear that he might bemaimed and slain on the spot.

"Very well," Freddy Farmer spoke up."You come with us, then. Watch them aminute, Dave. I have a small job to do.Hands behind your backs, you too. Quickabout it!"

The high ranking Nazis instantly obeyed.Freddy Farmer slipped behind them, andas Dave stood guard the English youthbound their wrists with the wire he tookfrom his own tunic pocket. Hestraightened up and moved close to theLuftwaffe Captain, who had been silent asa tomb and scared stiff as a post all thewhile. Freddy made a little motion withhis gun and Commando knife.

"Come out into the hall with me," he toldthe quaking German. "In front of me. I'llbe right behind. I say, Dave, just keep aneye on those two, will you? Be back in aminute, or less."

And with a quick look, and a wink forDave, Freddy Farmer herded theLuftwaffe Captain through the door andout into the hallway.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The Gods Laugh

Although Dave kept his face grim, and hiseyes fixed steadfastly upon von Staubeand von Gault, that did not mean he wasall calm and collected inside. Indeed, hewas far from that. Out of a clear blue skyFreddy Farmer had popped up withsomething else that didn't make sense atfirst glance. What in thunder did Freddywant with that Luftwaffe pilot out in thehall? Matter of fact, why had Freddyspared the youth a crack behind the ear in

the first place? Did Freddy—?

Dave caught his breath as a suddenthought came to him. Did this bit of crazybusiness have something to do with theMesserschmitts and the DornierSeventeen over at the east end of thefield? But just what, and how? True,Dave realized now that it was Freddy'splan to herd their two important prisonersout the back way, and make a dash for theDornier. But why fool around with theLuftwaffe pilot? Why not just slug himand get going with the prisoners? Whywait? The dawn sky was getting brighterby the minute. Their only hope of makingthis crazy venture come out right was to

do it while there was still some darknessof night on their side. Sure! The instantthey got von Staube and von Gault out theback way, they would slug them intopeaceful unconsciousness, and carry themlike sacks of wheat over to the Dornier—hoping against hope that the bad lightwould shield them from the otherGermans about the field.

But what a bold, brazen, and perfectlyexecuted stunt Freddy Farmer had pulledoff so far. Like reaching into a hat andproducing miracles. It had taken coldcourage for Freddy to go through with hiswildcat idea. But it had worked. The veryfact that any sane brain would have

considered it absolutely impossible hadbeen the one great thing in Freddy's favor.A magnificent bluff so expertly acted outthat it had been much too late to doanything by the time its victims had seenthrough it. If Freddy Farmer never didanother single thing in this war, he wouldstill have set an all time high for steelnerves and brazen bravery. Thatconfounded Luftwaffe Captain, though!Where in thunder did he come into thepicture? Why get two of them over here,and put only one of them out of the action?It didn't—

A muffled shouting and other sounds inthe hall outside the door curled fingers of

ice about Dave's heart. He started to turn,but checked himself in the same splitsecond as he saw von Staube and vonGault stiffen.

"Relax!" he told them in their own tongue."Just hold everything—or else!"

He bounced the Commando knife in thepalm of his left hand, and that was all thetwo Germans needed to kill any suddendecision they might have made. It wasmore than enough. Dave's gun they didn'tmind staring at. But his Commando knifeseemed like a swaying cobra's headbefore their eyes. They couldn't take it,and didn't make another move.

One—two—three minutes dragged by,like a fly crawling through molasses.Dave's nerves strained and twangedinside of him. His heart came up into histhroat and stayed there. He watched histwo prisoners with one eye, and kept theother on the hallway door. What hadhappened? Did Freddy need help? Shouldhe leave these two and race out toFreddy's assistance? After all, their luckmust be at the snapping point. Everythinghad gone off too smoothly, too easily.That wasn't the usual way of things inwar. Something was bound to crack, andalways did. The gods had to have theirlittle laugh. Should he go outside to giveFreddy a hand?

Those and hundreds of other questionsflew through Dave's brain. He hesitated insoul-searing indecision, and thensuddenly the hall door opened and FreddyFarmer came leaping into the room. Hisface was just a little pale, but there was abrittle gleam in his eyes. He waved asealed envelope at the two high rankingGermans.

"A dispatch just arrived," he said. "I tookit from the chap for you. Sorry, but we'veno time for this sort of thing."

And with that Freddy tore the sealedenvelope in half, and tossed the twohalves on the floor.

"Freddy, that pilot!" Dave asked. "What—"

"Sleeping," the English youth cut him off."No use for him, now. The dispatch chapis keeping him company. Front doorlocked, so no one will come in that way."

"Then for the love of Mike let's getgoing!" Dave cried. "You're wonderful,pal, but don't force your luck. Boy! Willyou be snowed under with medals!"

Freddy didn't say anything for a moment.It was as though he hadn't even heardDave's words. He stood with feet plantedapart, and his weight thrown forward onhis toes, and his head cocked to one side.

Anger blazed up in Dave. He was aboutto speak again when he thought he heardthe sound of aircraft engines. He wasn'tsure, and in the next instant he hadforgotten all about it. Freddy Farmer hadsnapped out of his trance and was gettinginto motion.

"Right-o, Dave!" he said, and advancedon the two Germans. "Take von Gault,Dave. I'll handle the other. Up, you two!Time to move. And remember! ACommando means exactly what he says—or promises. It's a sort of an oath, youknow!"

Freddy had slid around in back of von

Staube and pricked the back of the FieldMarshal's neck with the needle point ofhis Commando knife. The German felt thepain, and gasped.

"Ja, ja!" he babbled out. "I do as you say.We do as you order. We are yourprisoners."

"Quite!" Freddy reminded him in a gratingvoice. "Now, come along. Through thisrear door. If we meet anybody, tell him toreturn to his office. Only that, remember!He won't see my knife, but you'll feel it,my good man! Never fear! Let's go,Dave!"

Walking on the Field Marshal's right, and

a respectful half step to the rear, so thathe could keep the point of his knifepressed against the back of the Nazi'stunic, and not have it seen from in front,the English youth guided his prisoner overto the rear door of the room, and openedit. Dave took the same position with hisprisoner and sent him forward at Freddy'sheels. With nobody saying a word, theparty passed through the door, across aroom that had once been the kitchen of thehouse, and out through the outside reardoor.

With every step Dave took he was filledwith the nerve-tingling sensation that hewas walking on TNT charges with the

fuses already lighted. With every passingsecond he felt sure that he and Freddywere just acting out some dream, a crazynightmare that would explode in a roar ofsound at any moment. He told himself thathe wasn't afraid to die. That wasn't whyhe was shivering inwardly, and beads ofhot sweat were trickling down his ribs.No, it wasn't fear of death. It was a fearthat this really was only a nightmare. Thatit was only a miracle that had neveractually happened. You just didn't walkinto a Nazi Headquarters and walk outwith two of their biggest big shots. Yousimply didn't do that sort of thing! It justdidn't ever happen, not even in those wildblood and thunder war magazines. In fact,

you were a little nuts even to dream aboutsuch things!

Yet, all that to the contrary, it was true! Itwas taking place. They were out in thedawn air now. There was a lot of light tothe east. Some shadows of spent nightstill lingered, but not many. There weresome trees in back, on the other side of aseventy foot open space. If they couldcross to those trees! They'd be in theshadows, then. They could follow alongunder the trees and circle around to theeast end of the small drome where theDornier was. They could steal upon theguards, and—

It was then that Dave suddenly wasconscious of the fact that there weresounds of revving aircraft engines. Hecould tell by the throbbing note that theywere German engines. German airplaneson the ground. German airplanes at theeast end of the little flying field!

He started slightly, and his knifeaccidentally went forward a fraction of aninch. It slid through the cloth of vonGault's tunic, and through the clothes hewore underneath. It went all the waythrough and into his flesh a little. Hegasped out a stifled sob.

"Please! No! I beg you!" he moaned.

"Please, I am your helpless prisoner! Imake no move to escape!"

Dave hardly heard him. His ears werefilled with the sound of the revvingaircraft engines. There must be other Nazipilots about! They were getting ready totake the craft up into the air. Perhaps thiswas a part of some schedule that Freddyand he knew nothing about. Was theironly avenue of escape going to fly away?They couldn't hope to march these twoGermans to the nearest bunch ofCommandos. The nearest point wherethey would find Commandos was milesaway, far over on the other side of theSeine River.

"Freddy!" he choked out on the spur of themoment.

But that's as far as he could get.

"Quite all right, Dave!" his pal cut him offquickly. "Our chaps warming up theengines as arranged. We'd better put on abit of speed. Mustn't keep them waiting."

Dave knew that he was prodding hisprisoner across the space of open groundat an increased rate. He knew that Freddyand von Staube were speeding up also.He knew that they reached the shelter ofthe trees without incident of any kind. Butthey were all bits of snap realization thatflipped through his brain. What filled his

brain most was a great dawning lightwhich had burst on him at FreddyFarmer's words. Those engines revvingup were the Dornier's, of course! AndFreddy knew it! He expected it! And—and he had arranged it. But how? Holysmoke! That Luftwaffe pilot he hadherded out into the hall? But Freddycertainly hadn't sent that Jerry pilot overto start up the Dornier's engines and getthem warm. Freddy had said theLuftwaffe Captain was "sleeping" in thehallway. So—?

The thought was ended right then andthere for Dave. At that exact instant therecame a roar of anger and blazing rage

from around in front of the H.Q. buildingthey had just quit. The roar came a splitsecond after a crashing sound, a crashingand splintering that made Dave's heartquiver and then freeze up solid. He didn'tknow the true facts, but his guess wasgood enough for him.

Some of the Germans, maybe an arrivinghigh ranker, had tried the H.Q. front doorand found it locked. So the door had beensmashed in and Germans knew now thatvon Staube and von Gault had beenswiped right from under their noses. Andif they didn't know the exact details, theywould as soon as they had ungagged andrevived those inside the place. It was the

way it always happened! The gods had tohave their laugh. Freedom and successwere almost within hands' reach, and nowsuddenly everything seemed about to bewiped clean from the slate.

"Get speed out of that slob, Freddy!"Dave barked, and gave his own prisonera vicious jab. "Jig's up. Speed's the onlything. Get that slob going, or slice him up.No time to waste words, now!"

Freddy Farmer didn't reply. He simplywent into action. His needle pointed knifedrew blood from von Staube's back.Perhaps the German's courage returnedfor a moment. Perhaps he was actually

going to turn and throw his wrist-boundbody at Freddy, perhaps even cry out. Butthe knife digging into his back was thebreaking of the last straw. The big fat hulkgurgled out a moan of pain, and thentripped and went sprawling to the groundin a dead faint. Unable to check himselfor his own prisoner, Dave and von Gaultplowed into the pair in front, andeverybody went sprawling.

And behind them in the shadows Germanvoices screamed out commands to eachother, and the fading night was filled withthe snarl and crackle of random gunfire!

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Commandos Never Quit!

For a fleeting instant Dave's head was fullof spinning colored lights, and his lungswere full of searing white flame. But thelights and the fire were gone as quickly asthey had come. He rolled off the heapmade by von Staube and von Gault, andbreathed a little crazy prayer of relief thatin spilling down he hadn't driven homehis Commando knife. Quite unconsciouslyhe must have twisted his hand so that thepoint of the knife was no longer at the

German's back. And in the next instant herealized that Freddy Farmer had likewisebeen fortunate. Von Staube was still in afaint, and von Gault was rigid with fear,and gasping for knocked out wind. Butneither of them was dead.

"Blast!" Freddy almost sobbed. "It was soclose, too! I—"

"Shut up!" Dave told him. "It's still close.Grab your guy by the collar, and drag himalong. The deeper we get into these trees,the better. I got an idea."

"What...?"

"Save it!" Dave cut his pal off again. "Just

grab hold and heave-ho! Those tramps areonly shooting at shadows so far. Theydon't know which direction we took. Wecan make tracks while there's still time.Deeper into the woods, Freddy."

Though his prisoner was still gasping andchoking, that didn't bother Dave in theleast. He hooked the fingers of his righthand in von Gault's tunic collar and thenhauled the German over the ground anddeeper into the strip of woods. Freddyand he had traveled no more than fiftyyards when suddenly the English youthlost his footing and went tumbling withhis prisoner down into a partially grownover shell crater made in the first year of

the war. Dave stopped just in time, andfelt like letting out a shout of joy. Thegods had laughed, but they were being alittle kind to Freddy and him now. Daveslid down into the shell crater, haulingvon Gault along with him. By the time hereached the bottom where Freddy waswiggling out from under the unconsciousvon Staube, von Gault was past themoaning complaint stage. He was havingall he could do to get a little air into hislungs and get it out again.

"Nice going, Freddy!" Dave cried softly."Just what the doctor ordered. Couldn'tfind a better hide-out than right downhere. Now—"

"But, Dave, we've—"

"Pipe down!" Dawson whispered."Listen! We haven't a chance to reach thatDornier with all these birds tearing about.We'd be bound to stumble into them.These two chumps, their condition, wouldbe a dead give-away. And—and, Freddy,the killing stuff is out, until there isn't asingle hope left."

"Quite, Dave!" Freddy whispered. "I wasjust talking for their benefit, inside there,you know. Not unless—"

"Okay, okay, we're decided on thatpoint!" Dave cut in. "Now, look! The wayto that Dornier has got to be made clear.

That yelling pack of wolves has got to bedrawn off in the other direction. They'vegot to be made to think they've got a smallsized war on their hands. I think I canarrange that part. You stick here, and seethat these two don't let out a peep. If theyso much as take a loud breath, crownthem. I won't be gone more than tenminutes at the most. Then we'll carry thempiggy back the rest of the way to theDornier. But, hey! The Dornier! You didfix it to be revved up?"

"No, my little Commando knife," Freddyreplied. "I made that Jerry pilot stick hishead out the door and yell to one of hismechanics out there to start up the

Dornier's engines. He was too scared todo anything else. Then I pulled himinside, locked the door for good luck, andbashed him into sleep, along with thedispatch rider who had come poppingthrough. But, Dave! You can't!—"

"I can, and will!" Dave snapped angrily."Look! It's my turn to have a hand in thisparty. You've done plenty, pal. I've justbeen playing the outfield with a no hitpitcher in the box. Nix! My turn, now.You stay put with these two. I'll be backin ten minutes, or less."

Dave turned to streak off among theshadows, but turned back to Freddy

Farmer once more.

"Give me ten minutes, Freddy," hewhispered. "If I don't show up, I'll have atleast dragged them off in the otherdirection. That'll be that much of a breakfor you. Then you'll have to lug these twoone at a time over to the planes, and takecare of the guards there. But you've got agun, and know how to use it. One thing,though. I'd stuff these two in the rear pit ofone of those Messerschmitt One-Tens, if Iwere you. You can kick those babies intolife and get off quicker than you can in aDornier. Quite an order to fill, pal. I hopeyou don't have to fill it, and that I'll beback. Luck, pal!"

Dave squeezed Freddy's shoulder hard,and without giving his pal so much as achance to open his mouth, whirled awayfrom the half grown over shell crater andwent speeding silently back through thewoods toward their starting point. But hedidn't go all the way to the starting point.He didn't even leave the woods. He keptwell under their shadows until he wasalmost abreast of the Headquartersbuilding and not a dozen yards fromGerman officers and soldiers millingabout in the pale light.

He pulled up to a halt and froze against atree trunk. It had been his originalintention to make for the west end of the

field. He had spotted some drums of oiland gasoline there when walking by thespot with Freddy Farmer. But now sightof the Nazis dashing about like so manybewildered chickens was too much toresist. Here was the perfect chance for atrained Commando to do his stuff.Surprise attack, a lightning blow, and aneven faster retreat!

He moved slowly away from the treetrunk and toward a slightly hunched overGerman soldier with a sub-machine gunin his hands who was examining somepiled up rubbish in back of theHeadquarters building. Dave movedslowly for a moment, and then sprang

forward with the speed of a pouncingtiger. The Commando knife he carried inhis left hand went home dead true. Hisother hand chopped down on the sub-machine gun and yanked it from the fallingGerman's hands. So swift and so deadlyaccurate had the Yank's actions been thathe was spraying machine gun bullets toright and left, and in front of him, beforeany of those Germans near by knew whathad happened.

For many the truth came too late. Theywent over like ten pins and fell sprawlingto the ground. The others just leapedforward regardless of what was in frontof them. They crashed into each other,

into the rear of the building, or just intothin air—and kept going at top speed. Awild blast of concentrated fire in threedirections, and then Dave jerked hisfinger off the trigger and sprinted backunder the trees.

"Follow me, men!" he roared out inEnglish. "The west side! Gather there,and we'll mop up. Follow me, men!"

Dave fired a shot burst, and went crashingthrough some bushes, making as muchnoise as he could. Then he slowed up alittle, swerved sharply to his right, andthe sounds he made from then on were nolouder than a summer night wind. His feet

hardly touched the ground as he dodgedtree trunks, twisted past thorny bushes,and went speeding in a half circle aroundto the west side of the field. There thetrees ended and he burst out onto openground. Two grey clad figures loomed upin front of him. He saw the flash of dawnlight on gun barrels. He flung himself flat,squeezing his own trigger as he fell.Three soldiers hit the ground together, butDave Dawson was the only one of thethree who got instantly up onto his feetagain.

Clutching the sub-machine gun, he ranbody well bent forward and low to theground. Fifty yards of sprinting took him

to the oil and gasoline drums. He skiddedto a halt and blazed away at one of the oildrums. The brownish stuff spurted outonto the ground. Dave dropped to hisknees and jerked a snap lighter from hispocket. He struck it into flame, dropped itin a pool of oil and started running off tothe right at top speed. He had hardlyreached the shelter of some woods on thatside when the blazing oil reached the gasdrums, and started to touch them off.Though he was a good thirty yards awaythe force of the explosion knocked himflat and almost sent the sub-machine gunflying from his grasp.

He clung onto it, however. And well that

he did, too! At that moment, a squad ofGerman troops came tearing toward him.They didn't see him in the light of theraging flame, but they would have in thenext split second. Dave, however, didn'twait that next split second. He had swungthe sub-machine gun up and was making itspit nickel-jacketed lead. It will never beknown, but it is quite possible that not oneof those Nazi soldiers knew what hit him.At least, not until he woke up in that otherworld, and there was Satan inviting himin.

Almost before the last Nazi had dropped,Dave was up on his feet again, and inwhirlwind motion. Behind him was a

roaring and a shouting that sounded likethe whole German Army on his neck. Hislungs were aching, and there was pain inhis body from head to toe, but that did notstop him from putting more driving powerinto his legs. He tore blindly forward, notcaring so much about direction now asdistance. And when presently the roaringand shouting behind him seemed less, hecut sharply to his right toward the west.

He headed west for perhaps two minutes,then veered right again toward the north.All the roaring and shouting was off to hisright now, and he had only to jerk hishead in that direction to see the reflectionof the burning oil and gas through the

trees. He sped on by that spot until hecame out into the open again and saw thedim shapes of houses in front of him. Heswerved to the right for the last time, andwent tearing along to the protective stripof woods that ran in back of theHeadquarters building.

He was once more almost abreast of itwhen a figure loomed up in front of him.But loomed is not the correct word. Thefigure seemed to pop up, as though rightout of the ground. He saw the hated greygreen uniform, but he had no time to flingup his gun and fire. He was carrying it inone hand with fingers hooked about thetrigger guard, while he kept the other hand

out in front of him. So there was no timeto shift his hold on the gun and shoot.There was only the time to hurl the gunstraight out from him with every ounce ofhis strength. It didn't have far to travel,and it flew true. The gun crashed into theGerman's face and knocked him over flat,and Dave was forced to leap into the airbroad jump style to prevent fromstumbling over the fallen figure writhingon the ground in pain and total blindness.

Maybe ten seconds, maybe a half minuteticked by before Dave reached the grownover shell crater, and dived into itheadlong. Hands slapped down on him,and steel fingers dug deep. But the

pressure was instantly relaxed, andFreddy Farmer's arms were about himand hoisting him up to a sitting position.He heard the mumble of Freddy's words,but there were too many colored lights inhis brain, too much of a roar in his ears,and too much white fire in his burstinglungs for him to understand for a fewseconds.

"As if half the blasted German Army wenttearing past us," Freddy's words began toregister on his brain. "We would haveplowed right into them, if it hadn't beenfor your stunt, though! All that noise tookfive years off my life! Thought sure youhad copped a bullet and—"

"Kiss me later!" Dave panted. "Right nowwe've got to get moving. They're runningcircles around each other down there. Butthey may give a thought to the planes anysecond. Grab your guy, and—Hey! Theyaren't dead—Freddy?"

Dave gasped the last as he reached downand started to heave von Gault up onto hisfeet. The German was limp, like a sack ofwet wheat.

"Of course not!" Freddy snapped angrily."Think I'm a blasted Nazi? Just tappedthem to make sure they'd kick up no fuss.Better to carry them, anyway. This fatslob, von Staube, wouldn't go half fast

enough, anyway. Let's go!"

"Check!" Dave grunted, and heaved vonGault up over one shoulder. "The last lap.Keep your gun in your hand, Freddy.Maybe the mechanics and guards didn'tjoin in the fun."

"We'll find that out!" Freddy panted, andstarted off with Adolf Hitler's militarylittle Boy-Blue slung over his shoulder.

The quarter of a mile they were forced totravel before they reached the open eastend of the small flying field didn't giveforth a single Nazi. And fortunately, forthem, the noise of the revving engines andthe bedlam still in progress at the west

end of the field blotted out any soundsthey made as they stumbled forward withtheir heavy burdens. In fact, it was theprotection they needed to get them towithin twenty yards of the Dornier. Whenthey got that close they saw the lonemechanic standing under the right wing.He stood as though in a trance, hispopping eyes fixed on the mountingflames to the west. Dave took one look,then silently deposited von Gault on theground. He glanced at Freddy, shook hishead, and put a finger to his lips.

One shot would take care of that Nazimechanic, and nobody would have heardit. But Dave couldn't bring himself to do

that. The mechanic was unarmed. It wouldbe cold murder, and unnecessary too. Andso Dave simply braced himself and thenstreaked those twenty yards like a cat onvelvet. He reached the mechanic, clappeda hand over his mouth, hooked the otherarm about his neck, and heaved upwardand to the side. The mechanic seemed todo a beautiful swan dive through theflame-tinted air for a moment. Then hefell down on his face, and lay theregroaning, and clawing with both hands athis neck.

Dave didn't give him a second look. Heknew, from Commando training that itwould be minutes before that mechanic

would have full use of his body musclesand brain—particularly his brain. Hesimply sprinted back and hoisted vonGault up again onto his shoulder, andstarted with him toward the belly door ofthe Nazi light bomber. In the matter ofseconds, the two young Commandos hadtheir prisoners inside the bomber andbound together for "comfort." Then theyran forward to the pilots' compartment.There Dave hesitated, but Freddy shovedhim roughly into the pilot's seat.

"You fly, old chap!" Freddy shoutedabove the sound of the engines. "Nevercared much for the heavy stuff, anyway.Get on with it! It's your honor, old thing!"

Dave didn't stop to argue. Besides, hesaw grey green clad figures sweepingtoward them from the west end of thefield. He kicked off the Dornier's wheelbrakes and shoved the handle of thedouble throttle forward. The Daimler-Benz engines roared out their combinedsong of power and the bomber startedforward. It picked up speed at a rapidrate, but its wheels were still clinging tothe ground when the on-rushing Nazisveered off to the side and opened up awithering blast of machine gun and riflefire. A million tiny cracks appeared in thecockpit windshield. And as Dave andFreddy ducked down low they heard themetallic wasps come whining into the

cockpit and tear into the partition in backof them. And then, suddenly, the gods ofgood fortune seem to release theDornier's wheels. The plane zoomedupward under full throttle, and the flame-spitting machine guns and rifles fell awayfrom the belly of the bomber as itmounted higher and higher into the dawn-filled sky.

"Don't worry, bums!" Dave shouted onimpulse. "We're just leaving you for alittle while. We'll be back soon. Right!Us, and the whole gang. But you'll likethat less!"

"Quite!" Freddy Farmer echoed his

words. "But keep us going up, Dave.England's thirty minutes away still. Justlook at that! That flame and smoke overLe Havre way. I guess the other chapsfulfilled their mission, too. What a messthey made of the whole attack area!"

Dave squinted ahead at the ocean of flameand oily black smoke that towered upabove the Le Havre area. It was ahorrible sight to see, but just the same itfilled him with pride and joy to be amember of a force that could slam intoAdolf Hitler's boasted strongholds andmake that kind of a mess of things. Onelook at that flaming, smoking chaos and heknew that the United Nations Commando

attack had been a success, in spite of whatit may have cost. First Dieppe, now LeHavre. Next time, with luck, it would beall of France! All of conquered Europe!

"Say, Freddy?" he suddenly spoke aloud."One thing not quite clear. Just why didyou have those two Luftwaffe pilots sentfor, anyway?"

"Don't tell me you didn't get it!" Freddyechoed with a laugh. "I should think itwould be obvious, now. I realize I tookan awful chance, but that was the onlyway I could find out. And, of course, Ineeded one of them to make the orders tostart up the Dornier's engines authentic."

"Hold everything!" Dave cried. "I get thatpart, sure. But what was it you had to findout?"

"Why, how many pilots were about, ofcourse!" Freddy said with a chuckle and agesture. "Would have been silly, youknow, for us to kidnap von Staube andvon Gault, and then have some Jerrypilots fly off in the planes we were goingto use. That's why I asked to speak tothe i r pilots. Plural, see? And—well,thank goodness there were only two atthat field. Everybody else was a groundsoldier or officer. It would have beenfrightfully annoying if a dozen or so Jerrypilots had been there. My whole stunt

would have gone up in smoke!"

"Jumping catfish!" Dave breathed in awe."So that was the reason! Ye gods!Supposing there had been more than two?But I don't want even to think of it. And Ithink you'd better leave that part out ofyour report, pal. Nobody would believewe had that much luck. Hey! A mess ofR.A.F. Spitfires! Holy smoke! They don'tknow who we are, and—!"

"So we'd better surrender," FreddyFarmer said quietly. "And about time wedid, too, I'm thinking. Hold her level,Dave, while I give the chaps thesurrender signal."

Freddy shoved open the greenhouse,stood up on the seat so that he was headand shoulders in the air, and waved botharms in the well known gesture of aerialsurrender. The flock of R.A.F. Spitfiresswooped down, looked them overcautiously, and then took up escortingpositions as the Dornier drilled on outacross the Channel toward England.

"That's what I like, pal!" Dave criedhappily, and motioned toward theSpitfires. "To come home in style. Aerialescort, and everything."

"Frankly," Freddy said as a wistfulexpression spread over his tired face.

"Frankly, I'd like a—"

"I know!" Dave shouted him down. "Anice pot of hot tea! With cream. Well, pal,you're going to get one. Get a thousand.For the first time Dave Dawson is goingto buy all the tea he can get. But for you.Strictly for you! There's a limit to anyfriendship, my friend!"

THE END

[1] Dave Dawson, FlightLieutenant.

[2] Dave Dawson With The R.A.F.

A Page from

DAVE DAWSON ON THERUSSIAN FRONT

The moving dot silhouetted against thebleak, cheerless-looking sky grew biggerand bigger. Presently it ceased to be just amoving dot. It took on the definite shapeand outline of a German MesserschmittOne-Ten. Dave watched it a momentlonger, and then when the Nazi craftsuddenly veered off to the west, and wentstreaking upward toward a brooding bankof clouds, he took a quick glance atFreddy Farmer flying just off his rightwing, and started to snap out a short burst

from his guns.

There was no need, however, to attractthe English youth's attention. Freddy hadalready spotted the Nazi plane. In fact, hewas pulling his own ship around and upin that direction. Dave grinned, tight-lipped, and hauled his own plane aroundin Freddy's wake.

"Leave it to you, Eagle Eyes, to spotthings before I do," he murmured with achuckle. "Okay, pal. That's our baby. Thisis our dish. He thinks he's learned things,and is hurrying home to tell UncleGoering about it. Well, not today, hey,Freddy?"

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