"Well, my little fool friends! You don't seem to realize that I have saved your useless lives, do you? Well, I have, and you should be very grateful and thankful. None of your swine comrades would have come into these waters to pick you up."
The Nazi had stared so long, and been silent for so long, that the sudden explosion of his voice made both youths start a little. Dawson quickly got control of himself, and shrugged.
"We're very glad to be rescued," he said in a flat voice. "But in another couple of days the fleet would have been back from up north, and we'd probably have been sighted."
The Nazi arched his eyebrows and looked politely impressed. That is, save for his eyes.In their depths flickered pin points of polished steel.
"From up north, eh?" he murmured. "All the five carriers are returning in two days, yes?"
"That was the plan of operation, and—" Dave said, and then stopped himself, and bit his lip.
Freddy Farmer had of course been waiting for just such an opening, and he quickly took advantage of it.
"Keep your mouth shut, Dave!" he cried in an expert burst of anger. "Besides, it all depends upon their rendezvous with Task Forces Seven and Ten."
"Now who's blabbing?" Dave snarled, and whirled on him. "Why don't you keep your big mouth shut, too?"
Freddy started to make a blistering retort but simply went through the facial motions of being about to say it.
"Oh, what does it matter, anyway?" he finally said sullenly. "If they've been patrolling these waters they know as much about these things as we do. Quite a bit more, I fancy."
"Ah!" the Nazi breathed hard. "So you are English, yes? Now I understand your words. The English always quit before the battle is completely lost. Look at Dunkirk. They ran from us there. And Greece, and Crete. And evenat Singapore and Malaya you ran from the brave Japanese. Yes, yes. What does it matter now? You English know in your dirty hearts that you can never win!"
Real, honest to goodness anger blazed up in Freddy's face, and for one terrible moment Dawson feared that his English pal was going to hurl himself bare-handed at the Nazi. Freddy, however, managed to keep a firm grip on himself, and he eyed the German coldly.
"The opinion of a Nazi is unimportant," he said in a scathing voice. "It always has been among the peoples of the civilized world."
The U-boat commander, however, was not to be excited into anything. Perhaps he was too comfortable in his chair. Perhaps for once in his baby-killing life he decided that brute violence wouldn't gain him what he wanted. So instead he laughed at Freddy as one might laugh at a little boy who has suddenly flown into a childish tantrum.
"Even save the life of an Englishman, and he is still an ungrateful dog," he finally sneered. "But all this does not interest me. So you have five carriers, eh? And they are up north meeting two other task forces, eh? Thatisinteresting. What are they doing up there?"
Dave looked at the scowling Jap naval officer,grinned, and then returned his gaze to the Nazi's face. He shrugged and gave a little shake of his head.
"I don't know," he said. "Maybe it's Tokyo, andfor keepsthis time. We were to get our orders later."
The Jap made a sound like air coming out of a punctured tire, and wild hatred seemed to come out all over him in lumps.
"Lies, all lies!" he screamed. "Never again will Tokyo be bombed by you American dogs. We have seen to it, yes! You will all be dead and in the water before you even sight our shores!"
Dawson shrugged again but kept his gaze on the German's face.
"Were you on the surface for very long last night?" he suddenly asked.
The Nazi started, and blinked.
"What?" he demanded. "What's that?"
"I asked if you were on the surface much last night?" Dave repeated. "Was your radio open all the time?"
The German hesitated as though reluctant to reveal even that bit of utterly useless information. Then he made up his mind, and nodded curtly.
"Yes, we were," he said. "And the radio wasopen. Why?"
"You didn't hear the Tokyo station, did you, by any chance?" Dave asked softly, and leaned forward slightly. "Did you hearanyTokyo broadcast? Say from midnight on?"
The Jap hissed some more, but Dawson didn't so much as look at him. He kept staring at the Nazi, who was all scowls now. And there was a queer, unfathomable look in his eyes. Then suddenly he blurted out the question.
"You mean that Tokyo was bombed last night?"
Dawson calmly hunched one shoulder and gestured with his two hands, palms upward.
"Maybe it wasn't Tokyo," he said quietly. "We didn't have a radio in our raft. Maybe other objectives were selected at the last minute. I just thought that maybe you had heard, and could tell me. Then you didn't hear the Tokyo radio last night, eh? And maybe it wasoffthe air?"
"Lies, all lies!" the Jap screamed again, and actually jumped up and down in his fury. "Not one enemy bomber will ever get within sight of our shores."
Dave was tempted to turn and snap, "Quiet! small fry!" but instead he kept looking at the Nazi commander. He could tell that the German had a head full of thoughts, all bad. He and Freddy had planted the seeds of doubt and worry in the German's brain. And if they played it very carefully they might do more to help the Guadalcanal attack from right here in the U-boat than they would have if they had been able to make a hundred scouting patrols off the flight deck of the carrier Carson. At any rate, it was plain to see from the Nazi's face that the little "tête-à-tête" wasn't exactly working out the way he had planned. Something had gone off the track somewhere along the line.
Suddenly the Nazi took his eyes off Dawson and looked at the Jap.
"Watch these two, and don't lose your head," he spoke in German. "For the present they are more valuable alive. I am going to surface, if it's clear, and see if there is anything on the radio. I won't be long."
The Nazi nodded, pushed up onto his feet and brushed past Dawson and Farmer and out the door. For the first couple of seconds after that Dave held his breath and watched the Jap out the corner of his eye. It was all very well for the Nazi commander to warn the slant-eyed one not to go off half cockeyed, but that didn't mean that the killer wouldn't revert to type at the drop of the hat. As it was, he was still tremblingwith savage anger, and there was definitely cold, ruthless slaughter in his glittering eyes. However, the first few moments ticked by, and nothing happened. The Jap just stared at them like a hesitant cobra, and that's as far as it went.
Ten minutes, that seemed to take ten years in passing, finally came to an end. Then the door was opened and the Nazi commander came back inside. Dawson looked quickly at his face, and was more than pleased with what he saw. The scowl on the Nazi's face was darker than ever, and he had all the appearance of a man who has received a setback that he can't quite understand. It was on the tip of Dave's tongue to ask if he had heard anything on the radio, but he remembered just in time that neither Freddy or himself were supposed to understand German. Therefore he just kept his mouth shut, and silently waited. And he didn't have to wait long. The Nazi looked at the Jap and shook his head.
"Nothing!" he growled. "Too much static. I could not even raise Admiral Sasebo's flagship. The air is full of nothing but whines and squeals."
At the mention of the name, Admiral Sasebo, Dawson jumped inwardly. And he could almost feel Freddy Farmer start at the mention of thename, too. Out there in the Southwest Pacific that Jap Navy man had "won" for himself the title of "Suicide" Sasebo. Losses meant nothing to him. To gain and hold an objective was all that mattered, regardless of whether the objective was important or not. Once on a Tokyo scare broadcast to the world, Sasebo had stated, "We will win because we are prepared to lose ten million soldiers, if we have to." And that was exactly the way Admiral Sasebo had fought his part of the war. He was a madman who never stopped to count the cost in troops, and ships, and planes, and equipment. In time, if he still held his high office, he would lose the war for Japan by simply bleeding his country white. But though he constantly sacrificed thousands of his own forces, that did not mean he didn't inflict damage. He did. And so, if Admiral Sasebo was at sea, and on the loose again, it could well mean a lot of trouble, and then some.
"Perhaps you can make the contact later,Herr Kommandant," the Jap's voice cut through Dawson's thoughts. "But what about these two dogs. They speak nothing but lies. That's all they know. Nothing but lies. All Americans are stupid fools. I should have killed them yesterday when they were in the water."
Once again Dawson started inwardly, and inspite of himself he shot the Jap an agate-eyed stare. Fortunately the so-called Son of Heaven's follower was not looking at him, and so did not see that Dawson understood the words he spoke in German. Just the same, the realization that this slant-eyed, pint-sized rat had been in that tricky seaplane yesterday was a shock to Dawson. He recovered from his shock instantly, though, and longed for about five minutes with that double-crossing Jap in a locked room. He had a score to pay off, and he would have liked nothing better than the opportunity to do just that.
However, for the present, it was just so much wishful thinking as far as Dawson was concerned. Also, there were other things of far more importance than the item of knocking that Jap for a flock of outside loops. As a matter of fact, when the Nazi commander spoke again Dawson completely forgot about his private war with the Jap naval officer.
"That may be as you say," the Nazi said, addressing himself to the Jap. "These two may be young fools, like their countrymen. However, even fools can be useful. That is why I ordered you to trick them down into the water yesterday. Their plane was of the type used on American carriers. That proves that an American carrierforce was not more than a few hundred miles distance from the point where you shot them down. But just exactly where? Is that force south of here and advancing through waters we control? Or have they spoken the truth, and is it north on some mission we know nothing about? We must obtain the answer to one or both of those questions, Honorable Comrade, you see?"
The Jap made a face and waved one hand in a careless gesture.
"I speak as a Japanese, and laugh in their faces!" he replied with a hissing note in his voice. "Where they are, or what they plan to do, is of no matter. They are doomed. The mighty forces of the Emperor will crush them. If they have a force moving north, Admiral Sasebo will trap them and cut them to pieces. And if their force is already north of us, then Admiral Kusiro will shoot their planes into the sea, and sink all of their ships. Japan is too strong for her enemies. We have already proved that many times."
"Yes, true, of course," the Nazi commander said as though he were trying to soothe an upstart brat. "But unless we know everything, it may make it difficult for Admiral Sasebo's force. The American attack on Guadalcanal is to startsoon. Perhaps it has already begun. If Admiral Sasebo is to wipe out any successes the Americans might gain, and annihilate their forces, and cut off all reenforcements, he must have knowledge of what is going onelsewhere. For him to run into an unknown enemy task force might complicate things a lot. At least it would bring about a serious delay in his own operations. If we can aid him in any way, we must. That was what I was thinking of yesterday when we surfaced and sighted their plane on scout patrol."
The Jap nodded reluctantly and spoke something in reply, but it was lost on Dawson's ears for the simple reason that his brain was spinning, and his head filled with roaring sound.The Japs knew of the American plans to attack Guadalcanal!That bit of news just about knocked him off his feet, and for a few seconds he could hardly breathe, much less think. And when his brain started functioning again, every thought was like a twisting knife buried deep in his heart.
The Japs knew of the American plan to attack Guadalcanal! Admiral "Suicide" Sasebo was obviously on his way with a huge task force to catch the Americans by surprise and wipe them out completely before sufficient reenforcements could be rushed to the Solomons. Sasebo's forcewas headed southward, and Admiral Jackson's task force was coming up from the south to intercept. Maybe they wouldn't meet. Maybe the Japs would pass right on by and leave Jackson's ships and planes searching an empty ocean. It might be a case of check and double-check, but the breaks were mostly on Suicide Sasebo's side.Heknew what the Americans were up to, and the Yanksdidn'tknow Sasebo's reason for moving southward from Truk. In fact, they didn't knowfor surethat Sasebowas moving south, to say nothing of smashing the American attack on Guadalcanal and Tulagi.
A hundred and one thunderbolts were crashing through Dawson's brain. He didn't even dare glance sidewise at Freddy Farmer's face for fear he would see there the expression of wild alarm he was struggling to keep from showing on his own face. And then, suddenly, he became conscious of the U-boat commander speaking to the Jap again.
"... And we Germans have ways to make our prisoners talk, too," he was saying. "But I do not think that is best, right now. Tonight we will make a rendezvous with Admiral Sasebo's force. However, it is several hours until night. Also, even though we should get them to tell us what we should know, the radio might still bejammed with static. And so I think it is best for you to take them to Admiral Sasebo. Then he can do as he wishes. Meanwhile I will continue to patrol this area. And perhaps at the rendezvous I will have something interesting to report. Yes, I think the best plan is to surface, and launch the seaplane, and fly them direct to Admiral Sasebo's ship."
A brief moment of tingling silence seemed to hover in the air right after the Nazi U-boat commander stopped speaking. Then the Jap made more of his punctured tire hissing sound and bobbed his head violently.
"Yes, a very good plan,Herr Kommandant," he said in the other's tongue. "I, myself, will fly them to the illustrious Admiral's ship, and obey his commands. He will learn all there is to learn, I can promise you. There is no one in all Japan so clever as the Honorable Admiral. And tonight he will receive you with praise. That I can promise, too. I have often heard it said that he admires you most of all your countrymen your Honorable Fuehrer has sent to assist us."
That last statement was proof that the slant-eyed Jap was no dope. He knew how to soft-soap the Nazi square-head type, and the feeling of uneasiness in Dawson increased considerably. He half wished the Nazi would change his mind and decide to keep Freddy and him prisoners aboard the U-boat. There was something in the Jap's face that didn't make him feel even a little satisfied. On the contrary, he wondered plentyifthe Japwouldfly them to Sasebo's ship! Neither Freddy nor himself had sold the Jap a thing, as they had the Nazi. Ten to one the Son of Nippon secretly regarded them as just two humans to slaughter at will, and with much pleasure. And so, steeling himself inwardly, and bearing down hard to keep any of his feelings from showing on his face, Dave waited for the next move in this game of life and death in which those favoring death had most of the chips.
"I am honored to learn that your Honorable Admiral thinks so highly of me," the Nazi said as his chest puffed out a little. "And the feeling is mutual, I assure you. Good, then. You will fly these two to the Admiral, and we will meet again tonight. We'll—"
The Nazi paused, frowned at his wrist watch, and then nodded.
"In an hour," he said, looking back at theJap. "We will run submerged for an hour longer. Then we will surface, and if all is well we will launch the plane. In the meantime you can lock them up forward. They will be safe, ifnotcomfortable, in that empty stores compartment forward. Lock them up, and then come back and join me in an officer's toast to your Emperor, and to my Fuehrer."
The Jap beamed like a joyful rattlesnake and made a stiff, jerky bow from the waist. Then he quickly became the very, very tough little guy. He waved his gun at Dawson and Freddy and screamed an order.
"Go outside, dogs! We have no further use for you! Go outside and in the direction I order. Move, before I shoot you where you stand!"
The Jap spoke in English that time, and so, with a forced look of bewilderment on his face, Dawson turned and led the way out into the companionway. Perhaps Freddy took just a little too long to follow. Anyway, Dave heard the slap of the Jap's gun against his pal's head and a split second later the English youth stumbled against him in a desperate effort to remain on his feet. He succeeded, and a few minutes later they were shoved through a door into pitch darkness, the door was clanged shut behind, and the rasping sound of the twistinglock key grated on their ears.
"You hurt bad, Freddy?" Dave asked anxiously as he stood motionless in the dark.
"Fancy I'll survive!" Freddy replied bitterly. "The dirty beggar. Man! I never thought I'd ever be able to enjoy killing a man. But I'm sure I'd enjoy killing that filthy swine!"
"After me, you come next," Dave said grimly, and started putting one foot cautiously in front of the other. "I guess this place is empty, so we might as well sit on the deck and try to be comfortable. Come on over here, Freddy. We can use this bulkhead wall for a back rest. Wearein a jam, Freddy!"
The English-born air ace didn't speak until both of them were sitting on the smooth steel deck and were leaning back against the bulkhead wall. Then he sighed, and groaned softly.
"Quite!" he muttered. "A blasted awful mess, too. It makes me ill to think of what they said. Man! Dave! The blightersknowabout our plans to attack Guadalcanal. I thought I'd choke when I heard that. That's bad, you know, Dave."
"You're telling me, son?" Dawson echoed. "It's worse than that. But it doesn't help much to groan about it. What worries me is what's going to happen when that ten cent Jap dumps us in Suicide Sasebo's lap? We had that thick-headed Nazi believing us about our forces being way up north. I thought for a moment—that is, I hoped that—Aw, nuts! We couldn't hope to work a breakthatgood!"
"We may yet," Freddy Farmer remarked after a long moment of silence. "If we could only just get this Sasebo to believe that there is nothing south of him, and that all our naval and air forces are way up north and about to strike at Japan direct, then—"
The English youth suddenly seemed to realize he was reaching for stars, and let the rest trail off into silence.
"And get him to change his plans and go high balling with his whole force north for another one of his pet suicide ventures?" Dave more or less finished for him. "Sure, pal, that would be tops. It would be almost as good as if we could dive right out through these steel plates and swim to the Carson and tell Admiral Jackson the exact location of Suicide's force moving south."
"Yes, absolutely!" Freddy grunted. Then, after a slight pause, he added, "And the truth of the matter is that Icouldtell Admiral Jackson where Sasebo's force is,ifI could get to him."
Dawson gasped, choked, and gaped towardhis pal in the pitch darkness.
"Whoa, pal!" he cried. "That clout on the headdidsend you spinning. Take it easy, kid!"
"Take it easy, nothing!" Freddy replied hotly. "Icould, Dave. And if you'd used your eyes, you'd have learned what I did!"
"The—the location of Suicide's force?" Dawson asked incredulously.
"Exactly!" Freddy told him firmly. "At least what it was at ten o'clock this morning. It was One Hundred and Forty degrees West, and Five degrees North. I saw the position marked on the desk chart in that Nazi's cabin. And do you know whatthatmeans, Dave?"
"Well, I'll be a bowlegged son of a gun!" Dawson gulped out in awed admiration. "Kid Bright Eyes to the rescue again. Boy! I sure hand it to you when it comes to coming through in the clinches! Just like that he learns what Admiral Jackson's whole force wants to know. Holy smokes!"
"And a fine lot of good it does me to know, locked up in this blasted steel closet!" Freddy Farmer groaned. "But I asked you, do you know what that means? Do you happen to know where One Forty West and Five North happens to be?"
"Huh?" Dawson echoed. "Where?"
"I noticed it on the chart, of course," Freddy replied. "It happens to be a good hundred mileswestof the area our planes have been searching. In other words, Colonel Welsh and Admiral Jackson are not going to find the Japs in the area they're searching. Sasebo is well west of them. So he didn't go south, as was reported. He moved west from Truk for almost five hundred miles andthenturned south. And as of ten o'clock this morning he was heading for Jap-held New Guinea. And—"
"Jumping jeepers!" Dawson broke in with a gasp. "So that's it? He's going to slip through between New Guinea and New Britain and catch our attacking force on Guadalcanal from the south? Cut our supply lines to shreds, and then follow through with a main attack on whatever our boys have gained. Good night! That'll be a heck of a note, Freddy!"
"Quite, and definitely!" the English youth replied with a faint tremor in his voice. "Either that, or he'll go all the way around the western end of New Guinea, and split his forces. Half to cut off our forces on Guadalcanal, and half to make a sea and air attack against perhaps Darwin on the northern side of Australia. Who knowswhatthat cunning devil has up his sleeve? And to think we know where his confoundedforce is! Man! I could shoot myself in despair!"
"Here, cut that out, pal!" Dave snapped. "Get that old chin up. We're still alive, and that's something."
"You wouldn't care to tell me how much, would you?" the English youth grunted.
"No, I guess not," Dawson said with a chuckle. "But you get the idea just the same. But, boy, oh boy! If we only could get word to Colonel Welsh and Admiral Jackson. Darn it, Freddy! We've got to, somehow. We've just got to!"
"No doubt of it," Freddy mumbled gloomily in the darkness. "But how? That's the stickler, old thing.How?"
"I don't know," Dawson murmured. "But maybe we'll get some kind of a break. If we don't, we'll just have to make one, that's all. This Jap rat who shot us down, I wonder how he figures to fly us to Suicide's force?"
"That one is easy," Freddy Farmer sighed. "You'll see. Tied hand and foot, and jammed down into the rear pit of that seaplane like a couple of sardines, I fancy. No, I don't think I'm looking forward to that particular airplane ride."
"Yeah, like a couple of helpless sardines, probably," Dave murmured. "Yes, I guess I canthink of more comfortable flights I've had, too. Oh, well, a guy can always hope."
And with that listless comment Dave lapsed into brooding silence, and Freddy Farmer joined him. For quite some time neither of them spoke. What was there to say, anyway? What was there to say that hadn't already been spoken? Absolutely nothing. And so it was better just to sit and keep one's thoughts to oneself. What the future would bring it would bring, and that was that!
After a long, long spell of mutual silence a sudden change in the movement of the U-boat told them both that the undersea craft was going up to the surface. Dawson grunted and sat up a little straighter.
"Up we go," he grunted. "So things will be happening soon."
"Can't say I'd be mad if said things were bombs dropping on this thing from a chance plane or two of ours!" Freddy Farmer growled. "The way I feel right now, I don't think I'd mind at all. Oh, blast it! I guess that gun slap from that Jap rotter did do something to my nerve. I feel in an awful funk, Dave."
"Swell, perfect, pal!" Dave said with a chuckle. "Keep right on feeling that way, and everything will be okay."
"Not much it will!" the English youth grated. "And what the deuce do you mean by that crack, anyway?"
"I mean that I've seen you like this before, and plenty!" Dawson told him, and squeezed his arm in the darkness. "And those other times you just hauled back and knocked 'em high, wide and handsome. So it's okay by me, kid. Very much okay. You'll get us some action, if I don't."
"Thanks, old thing," Freddy said with a faint huskiness in his voice. "And I am a rotter to try and drag you down, too. Sorry no end, Dave. I'll try and buck up and not be such a wet wack."
"Wetsmack!" Dave corrected with a laugh. "Holy smokes! Aren't you ever going to learn to speak the language, huh?"
The English youth grunted, but before he could make any reply to that there came the final lurching motion as the U-boat broke surface, and even in their steel-walled prison they could hear the sounds of feverish activity. A moment or two later they could tell that the U-boat was motionless on the surface. And then more sounds, the whine and grind of turning gears, caused them to guess that the small seaplane was being hoisted up out of its hold hangar.
Suddenly, Dave began to chuckle softly. And Freddy Farmer peered at him in the darkness.
"What's wrong with you, Dave?" he asked, "What's so blasted funny?"
"I was just thinking," Dawson replied. "Remember that stuffed shirt ground major at the Broome field in Australia?"
"The one whose feet you dusted off with the prop-wash of the plane?" the English youth echoed. "Yes, I remember him. What about him?"
"I was just thinking," Dave said. "Maybe I gave that chump the right tip after all. Maybe he went dancing into his C.O.'s office with the real dope, and got tossed out for passing around such a cockeyed rumor."
"Yes, maybe you did at that," Freddy Farmer said soberly. "If Suicide Sasebo does strike at Australia, you will have given the tip-off days in advance, only you didn't know it. But I can't see anything to laugh about!"
"Okay, sober sides, I guess you're right," Dawson muttered. "But I sure could do with a good laugh, right about now. I—Oh-oh! I suspect here comes company. Watch it, Freddy. And hang on hard, pal."
"Right-o, Dave!" the English youth breathed. "Be right in there with you, old thing."
Freddy had hardly got the words off his lips when a key grated in the door lock and the door was kicked open with a crash. Pale light instantly poured into the room, and for a moment Dave and Freddy could see only blurred silhouettes in the companionway outside. Presently their eyes focussed to the change of light and they saw the Jap naval officer and two Jap seamen leering at them. The officer was dressed for flying. In his hand he carried his ever present gun. And each of the sailors carried a coil of thin, tough line.
"Turn around, and face the other way!" the Jap officer suddenly hissed at them.
For a split second the two youths hesitated as red waves of rebellion surged up in them. But in that same split second they realized that any show of resistance would be the same as putting a gun to their heads and pulling the trigger. They were as helpless as a couple of caged sparrows, and to do anything about it would be plain, downright stupidity. And so they slowly turned around and suffered themselves to be trussed up hand and foot by the two Jap sailors.
And suffer they did, in every sense of the word. It was a joy to those two sons of heathens to have the opportunity to tie up two whitemen, and they went about their tasks with savage glee. And the Jap officer, standing to one side with his gun ready, took almost as much joy in the operations as they did. For Dawson and Freddy Farmer it was terrible torture to both mind and soul. The loops of the thin, tough line were yanked so tight that they felt like cords of white fire burning into their flesh. Then long before the two Jap seamen had completed the job the feeling of burning bands of white fire disappeared. There was just a dull, throbbing numbness in their legs and in their arms. And as the final fiendish touch the end of the line was looped about their necks, and drawn back tight and tied so that every time they moved their heads the loop bit into their throats and choked off their wind.
Finally, through the pounding in his ears, Dawson heard the Jap officer scream something in his native tongue. Then he felt himself being lifted up and slung across one of the Japs' shoulders like a sack of wet meal. And he could not keep track of just exactly what happened after that. All the bombs in the world were exploding in his brain. His lungs were on fire, and his thumping heart was pounding its way out through his ribs. He seemed to lose control of the movement of his eyeballs. They kept rollingback up into his brain, and vision was impossible. Everything was just a surging ocean of red waves. In a crazy abstract sort of way he wondered if he had lost consciousness. He decided he hadn't, otherwise he wouldn't be thinking such a jumble of thoughts.
Then, suddenly, instinct told him that he was falling. He tried to cry out in alarm, but there was no sound of his own voice in his ringing ears. There was just the wild, angry jabbering of Japanese. A tiny thought whipped through his brain to tell him that his Jap seaman had missed his footing and was lunging downward. And the instinct of self-preservation caused him to strain at his bonds. And that was the very last thing he remembered. The whole world blew up in that instant and he went sailing off into a great void of utter silence and darkness.
From a long way off came the faint rumble of sound. It grew louder and louder, and took on the steady, rhythmic beat of powerful engines giving of their best. Every so often a different sound broke through the rhythmic beat, but it faded out almost instantly, and the steady beat continued on forever—and ever—endlessly.
Seconds, minutes, and years dragged by, and then Dave Dawson was conscious of the fact that the rhythmic beat came from all about him, and that his body was absorbing the vibration of it. Not yet did it occur to him to try to move, or even to open his eyes. As a matter of fact, either of those physical accomplishments was far beyond his powers. And he continued to remain in a befuddled world of rhythmic beats, vibration,and darkness.
And then, suddenly, there was light all around him. But a few extra seconds ticked by before his half frozen brain could grasp the fact that his eyes had more or less automatically opened and that he was staring up at a light grey-painted ceiling and walls, and that up off to his left there was a round window through which light was pouring. He saw the ceiling, the grey-painted walls, and the round window, and although they registered upon his brain individually, they meant nothing to him as a whole.
More years dragged by, and the thought finally came to him to move his legs and his arms. He did so, but the pains that shot through his sturdy, youthful body caused him to gasp and groan, and relax completely to wait for the film of red to pass from his eyes. And when it did he saw the strained, anxious face of Freddy Farmer bending over him. The English youth's lips moved, and the words just barely seeped through Dawson's ears.
"Dave, old man, look at me! Speak to me, Dave! Are you all right? Oh, blast those devils! Dave! Come out of it. It's Freddy! This is Freddy Farmer. Your pal.Dave!"
A tiny spark was touched off in Dawson's brain, and the flame from it seemed to startstrength surging through him. He licked his lips, swallowed, and gulped. Hardly realizing he was doing so, he pushed himself up onto one elbow. Then Freddy caught him around the shoulders and eased him up to a sitting position.
"Thank God!" the English youth sobbed. "Good grief, Dave, I thought you were a goner for sure!"
"What—what happened?" Dave mumbled, and the effort to speak made his throat burn. "What happened? Did we crash—or something? Bail out—and forget to pull the rip-cord, huh?"
"That blasted Jap!" Freddy Farmer grated. "He slipped, and you went crashing down on the deck on your head. Man! I was sure you had been killed right then and there!"
Dawson blinked hard, put his finger tips to his temples and pressed as though he could push away the fog that clouded his brain.
"Jap?" he muttered thickly. "I fell on my head? What Jap, Freddy? What are you talking about? I haven't got a head. I've gottwoof them. Split right down the middle. And—Hey! What gives? What's this place? Where the heck are we? What in thunder has happened, Freddy?"
Freddy Farmer didn't answer, because he wasn't there. He had moved away somewhere.But he returned almost immediately and held a glass of water to Dawson's lips. The Yank ace drank greedily, and the cold water did wonders for the burning in his throat. It also helped to drive the fog from his brain, and give him more strength in both mind and body.
"Thanks, pal!" he gasped when he had drained the glass of its last drop. "You're a lifesaver, what I mean, kid. Thanks, plenty. Now, what in the world has happened?"
But even before Freddy Farmer could form the words with his lips, a little door in Dawson's brain seemed to pop open and vivid memory came rushing back to him.
"My gosh, I catch!" he cried. "We had been trussed up by those Japs, and they were carrying us up onto the deck of that U-boat! That Jap rat officer was going to fly us to the Suicide Sasebo's flagship. What happened? Did the dirty bums change their minds? And hey! We're not aboard any U-boat now! Or are we?"
"If you'll only shut up!" Freddy Farmer barked, but there was great joy glistening in his eyes. "Just keep that mouth of yours shut tight, and I'll tell you as much of it as I can."
"Okay, go ahead," Dave told him. "The lip is all zippered up, kid. Shoot."
"Well, they trussed us up, and carried us outon deck," the English youth began. "The beggar who was carrying you, though, slipped and went flat. He just dumped you off, and you landed on your head. I guess it was your helmet that saved your life. At least, saved you from a nasty skull fracture. However, you went out cold, much to the amusement of the Japs. And then—well, I blessed well hope I'll never have to live through anything like it again!"
The English-born air ace paused, and there were actually beads of sweat on his face. Dave gasped at him as he brushed them off with his hand.
"Then what, Freddy?" the Yank asked. "Oh! You mean because you thought I'd kicked the bucket? That my number had gone up?"
"Partly," the other replied. "But mostly because the Japs decided that you wouldn't be of any use to them in that condition. That Jap officer blighter was about to have you just tossed into the water for shark food."
Dawson gulped hard, and every drop of blood seemed to drain right down through his feet, and on out of his body.
"Sweet tripe, no kidding?" he gagged. "Jeepers! And there I was not able to do a thing about it. Boy, oh boy! Praise be to Allah, they didn't!"
"I never want to live those minutes overagain!" Freddy Farmer breathed fervently. "I tried to call out and tell them something that would stop them, but that confounded cord around my neck was digging in so deep that I could hardly breathe. And then you, yourself, got them to change their minds."
"Me?" Dave echoed wildly. "What in thunder didIdo?"
"You seemed to come out of it for a second or so," the other told him. "You opened your eyes, glared your worst at the Jap rat officer, and actually tried to push yourself up off the deck. Of course you barely moved, bound up as you were. But you certainly looked and acted quite the tough guy, old thing."
"Yeah?" Dawson echoed, and grinned faintly. "Well, that's me all over, pal. Tough as they come—when I'm out cold! So I sort of saved my own life, eh?"
"Just about," Freddy Farmer nodded. "The Jap rat decided that he wasn't through with you, so he had the seaman pick you up again. I guess you had passed out again by then. And you stayed that way—lucky beggar. I also hope and pray I'll never have an airplane ride like that one! Heaven preserve me, please! I'm still not quite sure that I've got hands, and feet, and a neck. The blighters rammed us down in the rearpit of that seaplane so tight I was afraid I wasn't going to be able to breathe. You certainly missed something, Dave! You certainly did, old chap!"
"Yeah, and am I glad!" Dawson grunted, and glanced about him.
It was then he saw that Freddy and he were in an absolutely bare cabin aboard some kind of a ship. It was not until then that he realized that the rhythmic beat was the ship's powerful turbines driving it through the water. He glanced out the round-shaped "window" and saw cloud-dotted azure blue sky drifting by. Then he looked quickly back at Freddy, and the English youth nodded gravely.
"That's right, Dave," he said quietly. "Welcome to the flagship of Admiral Suicide Sasebo's force. And, good grief, Dave! It's a tremendous force! Three carriers of the Kaga class, a dozen troop ships, and scads and scads of cruisers, destroyers, and supply vessels. Even from the air they appear to take up the whole blasted ocean. Very definitely, a big force. But, as I was saying, it was an absolutely terrible ride. I think I fainted once or twice, myself. Just couldn't seem to hang on somehow. Then after years and years we sat down in the middle of this force and came alongside this carrierflagship. They let down a hoist cable and took us right up on board. I really was pretty hazy by then, and I don't remember just what followed, exactly. But it wasn't much. Yet, no, it was a whole lot, I guess you'd say. They took those cursed ropes off us both, anyway. Then they carried you, and half dragged me, down to this cabin, and kicked us inside. Ever since I've been trying to decide whether to pray you wouldn't recover and thus get out of it all, or to pray for you to recover, and carry on with me."
Dawson smiled and reached over a hand and pressed Freddy Farmer's knee. It was then he saw the ugly-looking red welts that circled his wrists. And also the circle of red welts about Freddy's wrists.
"Well, here I am anyway, kid," he said softly. "No rotten Jap rats can break up this old combination, hey, fellow? But how long have we been here?"
"About two hours, I fancy," Freddy said. "We got here about the middle of the afternoon, so now it must be around five o'clock. I don't know the time, exactly. They took my wrist watch, and yours, too. Souvenirs, no doubt. I hope the things refuse to run for them, the dirty thieving beggars. Gosh! How my hatred forthem just grows and grows! I could—"
"Well, don't let it throw you, and blow your top, kid!" Dave cut in with a soothing note. "Going haywire won't help a thing. And at least we've got one thing to cling to."
"What?" the English youth grunted. "Each other?"
"Yes, that, too," Dave replied with a nod. "But that isn't what was in my mind. I mean, we're both still alive. If they didn'twantus alive, we certainly wouldn't be here in this place. So it means that they figure we've got something they want. See?"
"Perhaps," Freddy said slowly. "Perhaps not, too. Our little talk session with the Nazi U-boat commander didn't cut any ice with that Jap rat officer. I wouldn't be at all surprised but that we're here just so's he and his dirty pals can take their time and fully enjoy torturing us and killing us. Gosh! A horrible thought, what?"
Dawson shook his head, and waved one hand back and forth.
"I don't think I'll buy any of that," he said. "This Sasebo is on a darned important mission. Much as he likes to see guys die, I don't think he'll bother much with a couple of guys named Joe. Nope, Freddy, we're here because they think they can gain something from us."
"And when they don't?" Freddy Farmer murmured, and looked him straight in the eye.
"Yeah!" Dawson breathed. "Maybe then the funwillbegin. So it's up to us to beat them to the punch. To keep them on the ropes, and undecided what to do next. Maybe even get them high tailing north for a big killing that isn't going to come off."
"What a blasted faint hope, that last!" Freddy snorted. "I'm not even giving it a thought. If there is anything that wecando, or try to do, it's to somehow get one of their planes and go straight to Admiral Jackson's force."
"Sure, that would be nice, too," Dawson grunted. "But it happens to be all reversed now, Freddy."
"What is?" the other demanded. "What do you mean by that, Dave?"
"The whole darn situation," Dawson told him. "Yesterday we didn't know where this force was, but we did know where Admiral Jackson's force was. Today, though, it's the other way around. We know where the enemy is, but we don't know exactly where our forces are. There's a heck of a lot of ocean out there, Freddy. We could use up an awful, awful lot of gas and oil and get nowhere, and find nothing!"
"Yes, quite," Freddy grunted. Then, "Exceptfor one thing, old bean."
"Such as?"
"Such as the radio that would be in the Jap plane," the English youth replied quickly. "Ifwe could get a Jap plane."
Dawson chuckled in spite of the seriousness of the situation, and gave a little shake of his head.
"Leave it to the kid, here!" he breathed. "The firm's brains, that's what he is. But, kidding aside, you've got something, pal. I really think that maybe you have. With a Jap radio—and I guess one of them isn't too tough to work—we could sure tell the whole cockeyed world plenty. Boy, oh boy! Would that burn up Sasebo, to hear us telling the world about his force, where it is, and how many ships, and so forth. I bet he'd dive over the side, and commithara-kirion the way down!"
"Well, don't consider it as good as done," the English youth cautioned. "Stealing a plane in story books is quite simple, of course. But the real thing is quite something else. Just the same, though, I very definitely would like it that way."
"And while we're at it, let's shoot the works," Dawson said with a dry chuckle. "We'll not only swipe a plane, but we'll also swipe all of Sasebo's task force plans before we leave. And maybe even his samurai sword. Now, there is something that would sure get the guy's goat. And I don't mean perhaps!"
Freddy Farmer joined Dave in laughing, and then, suddenly, as their eyes met both sobered in a flash. All that had happened to them, and the terrific strain under which they were right then, was fast catching up with them. It was causing them to become just a bit light-headed, to talk through their hats, and—and, if they didn't call a halt, send them haywire like a couple of babbling idiots. They saw that approaching breaking point in each other's eyes. And it straightened them up, and fast.
"Well, anyway, we got some of it off our chests," Dawson muttered, and stared down at his red welt-marked wrists.
"Yes, quite," Freddy Farmer echoed absently. "And I fancy it helped a little. But I wonder what, Dave?"
"And so do I, chum," Dawson sighed. "So do I!"