The camouflage was only half completed when the first supply plane arrived. It was a big _Coronado_ flying boat, altered for extra cargo space. It brought enough gasoline in cans to feed _Rosy’s_ big engines on the trip home, and it took Tony Romani back to the field hospital. The next two planes brought bundles of steel mats for the beginning of a long, straight runway. Three days later _Rosy O’Grady’s_ sunburned crew had lost ten or fifteen pounds apiece, but the roadway of perforated steel was completed. One end of it was under water, owing to the curve of the beach. An incoming wave might cause the huge bomber to ground-loop at the moment of her take-off, but that was a chance that had to be taken. As the men piled into their ship they tried not to worry about this danger spot; yet there was no denying the risk. Belted into his co-pilot’s seat, Hap Newton warmed up the four big engines. Slowly he increased the r.p.m. until _Rosy O’Grady_ was straining to be off. The mighty slipstream ripped jungle foliage and tossed the fragments of her camouflage screen. “Let’s go, Hap!” Barry Blake said quietly. With brakes released the bomber leaped ahead. She rushed down the narrow steel runway, her airspeed gauge climbing fast. If one of her big wheels should run off into the sand, disaster would almost certainly result. Almost on the “step” she reached the wet end of the strip. Spray flew from her right hand wheel. The water tugged at the tire like a many-tentacled octopus. Despite both the pilots’ weight on the controls, it pulled her down. The right wing dipped into a wave. Every man on board held his breath, bracing himself for the shock and rending crash of a ground loop.... Then, abruptly, the ship righted herself. When Barry eased back on the controls she lifted her twenty-five tons as lightly as a windblown leaf. “Home, James!” croaked Chick Enders, and a gale of laughter swept through the Flying Fortress, releasing her crew’s badly stretched nerves. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER SIXTEEN SECRET MISSION The safe return of Barry Blake and his crew to Mau River was celebrated the following night at supper. The meal was the nearest thing to a banquet that the army cooks could turn out. There was a sort of program, too, mostly humorous. It recalled the never-to-be-forgotten days at Randolph Field. Barry himself was heralded as the “Big Dog” at the moment of his entrance into the mess tent. Colonel Bullock, as master of ceremonies, announced: “The Big Dog is coming in to land.... The Big Dog is rolling down his flaps.... The Big Dog has landed.... The Big Dog is waiting to be serviced!” Between each announcement, the second lieutenants softly chorused: “Woof, woof! Woof, woof!” When Barry lifted a large baked potato from the serving dish it was announced that “The Big Dog is getting bombed up.”