Dawson didn't say a thing, and neither did Freddy Farmer. It is doubtful if at that moment either of them could have spoken a word, even at the cost of their lives. The blackest and most inexcusable failure possible was theirs. It was complete and utter defeat for them. Every single step they had taken had been a step downhill toward failure and disgrace. They had failed Vice-Admiral Carter, and they had failed Vice-Admiral Stone, and Commander Drake. And they had failed themselves. From the very moment the lightning had struck them as they crouched outside that shack near San Diego they had not done one single thing that wasn't the wrong thing to do. Twice doom had reached for them, and missed. But not the third time. It was all over now. They had failed. To the end of their days they would not be able to hold their heads up among men. It would be far better if ... "Good fortune is a fickle woman, Captain Dawson," Yammanato spoke again, as Dawson caught himself swaying like a drunken man. "She belongs to no one, for always. Even I have suffered from her fickle ways at times. But in your case you were doomed to lose. You were mere boys trying to beat men. To beat men who will one day become masters of the entire world. So do not let your sorrow and anger at yourself rob you of your desire to live. It was inevitable, this thing. You two were but two pawns to be taken and removed from the game. We Japanese have made this thing happen to others before, and we will make it happen to still more in the future." The pitch-black mood still engulfed Dawson, but he forced himself to rally his thoughts, and to regain control of them. He looked at Yammanato and regarded him, flint-eyed. "Taking a couple of tricks isn't winning the whole game, Yammanato," he said with an effort. "Okay, we didn't catch that spy aboard the carrier, and the force has sailed. You forget the other thing. The other job we did accomplish!" The little Jap just looked at him and smiled pleasantly. "How many times, Captain Dawson?" he asked with arched eyebrows. "How many times, what?" Dawson retorted. "How many times has the famous American tendency to bluff been successful with you?" the Jap shot right back at him. "Another job? Well, somehow I find myself not even curious any more, Captain Dawson. Simply talking with you has satisfied me completely. There was no other job, and we all know that now." "No?" Dawson flung at him. "That's a horse on you, Yammanato! If nothing was bothering you, Farmer and I wouldn't be alive now. It's not the Japrat way to let their prisoners go on living for nothing. It won't work, Yammanato. And I do mean _your_ bluff!" The little Jap continued to smile, and then suddenly he looked almost sad and a little reproachful.