"Whatever you say suits me," Freddy Farmer replied with a shrug. "The vice-admiral has been awfully decent giving us the run of the entire force as he has. Frankly, though, I think that everybody else is not only getting fed up with us popping in and off their flight decks, and snooping around, but they are also becoming very suspicious. Much more of this and we'll upset the morale of the force. After all, they're going into battle soon. And chaps about to go into battle don't want a couple of mysterious nobodies flitting about them. But if you think we should pay another visit to the other carriers, then I'm with you, no matter what anybody thinks. Well, what do you say?" "Well, I guess ...," Dawson began and then stopped. He stopped because he caught sight of the vice-admiral's aide hurrying toward them across the flight deck. "Oh," he said out of the corner of his mouth. "I guess what we do next has already been decided for us. Here comes Lieutenant Commander Clarke, and he's not just out getting the sunshine. You and I, Freddy, are about to go see the Old Man of this carrier force." And the truth of that statement was proved a couple of moments later when the lieutenant commander reached them. "The vice-admiral sends his compliments to you two gentlemen, and requests that you come to his quarters at once," the Naval officer said. "Follow me, please." A few minutes later the two air aces were alone with Vice-Admiral Macon, a short, thick-set man with a face that could look hard as nails one minute, and all custard pie and sunshine the next. Right now his expression was sort of in between. He nodded politely as Dawson and Farmer presented themselves, and with a friendly wave of his hand indicated that they were to be seated. Then after searching their faces for a moment, he spoke. "No luck yet?" he said. "No, sir, I'm sorry to report," Dave replied for both of them. "And frankly, sir, I cannot understand it. We have visited every carrier several times, as you know, of course. And we have seen every fighter pilot at one time or another, yet I will swear that the man we want was not one of them. There's just one thing that occurs to me now, sir. Is every fighter pilot who was with the force in San Diego still with it? I mean by that, sir, because of the mission now being carried out, have any fighter pilots been transferred to torpedo or scout-bomber or dive-bomber squadrons, since the force put to sea?" The force commander thought a moment, and then shook his head. "No," he said bluntly. "Every man is serving just as he did when the force was at San Diego. The only changes have been the fighter pilots that were taken aboard at Pearl Harbor. I'm afraid that you're wasting your time, gentlemen. And I do know that you are causing a considerable mystery among the flying officers of the force. I do not like that, and something must be done about it. That is one of the reasons why I sent for you."