"Okay, I guess," Dawson replied with a shrug. "The entire force is to anchor inside the submarine nets while the vice-admiral makes his inspection of all three carriers. We'll go aboard with his party not as officers, but as gobs. Nobody ever looks at a couple of gobs in a vice-admiral's inspection party. Besides, we won't be trailing along with all the gold braid. We'll be stationed at the gangway ladder where we can get a look at everybody, and still be noticed. All pilots will be lined up on deck, and so forth. Yeah, I think the plan is okay." "Wish I thought so," Freddy Farmer grunted. "Strikes me as a bit too fancy, though. I can think of a lot of ways that would be just as good, and much simpler." "Well, I'll tell the vice-admiral when he comes in," Dave said with a chuckle. And with that they both lapsed into silence and strolled slowly along the road that paralleled the Kahuku Point beach. There was nothing to be gained by rehashing things. What was to happen tomorrow when the carrier force arrived, would happen. And that would be that. So they strolled along, one or both of them pausing every now and then to admire the moonlight on the palm trees, or the way it danced over the broad expanse of the Pacific like billions and billions of spinning silver coins. At one spot the sight was particularly awe-inspiring, and Dawson stared at it intently like a man in a trance. Eventually, he heaved a long sigh, stretched his arms over his head, drew in a deep breath, and then let it out in another long drawn out sigh of complete contentment. "Some night, hey, Freddy?" he grunted. "Boy, this is sure one swell spot, war or no war. Me for this place in my old age, and no fooling. After I make my million in civilian life, of course. How about you, little man?" There was no comment from Freddy Farmer. Dawson turned and started to open his mouth to repeat his words, but he snapped it shut instead. For perhaps five full seconds he stared pop-eyed at the spot where the English-born air ace had been walking by his side. But Freddy wasn't there anymore. He had disappeared; completely vanished as though the ground had swallowed him up. Shadowed moonlight all over the road, but not a sign of Freddy Farmer. "Hey, Freddy!" Dawson suddenly let out a yell. "Where the heck are you, fellow?" The silence of the night swallowed up the echo of his words. He slowly turned all the way around and searched with puzzled eyes in all directions. A wave of annoyance suddenly flooded through him. He had the urge to go on walking along the road, but on second thought he curbed it. "Okay, funny man!" he snapped. "Come out, come out, wherever you are. Come on, Freddy! I don't feel like playing _that_ kind of a game! Snap into it, fellow!"