"Yeah, I got the same idea," Dave said gloomily. "And it's been bothering me. I'll hate like sixty to go back to instructing. To tell you the truth, once this business is all settled, I'm going to go to the vice-admiral and see if I can't get him to arrange for us to be sent to the Southwest Pacific war zone. Anyway, some place other than back to the mainland." "I doubt that you'll have any luck," Freddy Farmer sighed. "Technically, the vice-admiral hasn't anything to say about where we go next. We are Air Forces, you know. Loaned to Naval Aviation for instruction duty. Orders for us to proceed to any fighting zone would have to come from the Air Forces Command, not the Navy." "Right, but did you have to bring it up?" Dawson groaned. "However, this business isn't cleared up yet. I've got me a funny feeling, I have." "Was there ever a time when you hadn't?" young Farmer shot right back at him. "What's it this time? That we're going to fail tomorrow?" Dawson didn't reply for a moment. He walked along the moonlit and shadowed road, hands jammed in his pockets, and a faraway look in his eyes. "Yeah, Freddy," he eventually said slowly, "I guess you could put it that way. I've been making the old brain wheels spin over in high gear on all this business. And I stumbled on one little item that maybe throws the whole thing out of whack. Time." "Time?" Freddy Farmer questioned with a frown. "Yeah, time," Dawson said. "No matter how you look at it, the carrier force was far at sea when you and I stopped hearing the birdies sing. And ..." "But you said...!" young Farmer began. "I know," Dawson stopped him. "I said that being as how things were all arranged, they probably took a chance and had that Nazi spy go back aboard his ship. But later, when the Jap guessed that we were going to do things about it, he stopped taking chances." "You certainly don't make sense," Farmer growled. "But if you're referring to the Nazi spy, no matter what the Japrat decided, or didn't decide, the Nazi was far at sea by then. And on his way to Pearl Harbor." "Correct," Dave grunted. "But there was the item of that guy in Honolulu. Oh sure, we may spot the Nazi tomorrow, but I don't think _he'll_ lead Commander Drake and his men to the Honolulu address. And even if he should, Commander Drake won't find anybody there." "You're crazy!" Farmer snorted. "Okay, so I'm crazy," Dave said placidly. "But that's the way I feel just the same. Doggone it, Freddy, the thing is just too open and shut, as far as we're concerned. I mean, we hold all the cards. And nothing ever works out that way. The stakes are too high for it to come off that way!" "Rubbish!" young Farmer snorted again.