"I haven't the faintest," he said. Then, looking at the non-com, he asked, "Can we take that call in here, or do we have to go over to Administration?" "I can have it transferred over here, sir," the sergeant said, and pushed open the door of the Operations Office. "Follow me, please." A few minutes later Dave and Freddy were listening at a single receiver to Vice-Admiral Carter's voice at the other end of the wire. "I want you two to take off just as soon as you possibly can," the Naval base commandant told them. "Don't delay a minute longer than you have to. I've already spoken to the field commandant there, and he has assured me that you don't have to wait and go with the group that's flying over. So as soon as you hang up get busy, and get on your way. You will be met by a responsible officer when you reach your destination. Do you understand?" "Yes, sir," Dawson spoke for the two of them. And then after a split second's hesitation, he added, "May I ask why, sir? I mean, has something unexpected happened?" "Not exactly," the voice at the other end of the wire said. "It's simply that I don't want anything unexpected _to_ happen. The other one we were hunting down here has turned up. At least it would seem that he has. It was reported to me just ten minutes ago that one of our planes was stolen shortly after you two took off last night." "A plane swiped?" Dawson blurted out before he could check himself. "What do you mean, sir? Who stole it?" "Positive identification was not made," the vice-admiral replied. "But the guard, who was wounded, gives a description that might be our man. He was shot through the neck by a man in civilian clothes. The light was bad, of course, and the guard didn't have the chance to get a good look at his assailant, but he says he could be either Mexican, or Jap. And of course he was Jap. _The_ Jap!" "And you mean, sir, you think he's shadowed us up here?" Dawson asked. "Quite probable," was the instant reply. "He could land his stolen plane any number of places up there, and not be seen, and make his way to your field on foot. Of course, it may not be that way at all, but we can't take any chances that it isn't. So get going, you two. Get your plane away from there at once, and good luck." "Yes, sir, and thank you, sir," Dave murmured, and hung up the receiver. He turned his head and looked at Freddy Farmer's wide eyes, and tried to smile, but it wasn't very much of an effort. "Well, what do you know?" he breathed. "If it is that rat, then he's a pilot, and he's catching our smoke. Gives you a funny kind of feeling, doesn't it?" "Quite!" Freddy Farmer grunted, and ran a tongue across his lips. "Makes a chap feel like the witness of a murder, and the murderer still at large, and hunting you down so's you'll never be able to tell."