"Very good!" the senior officer snapped. "Come along, then. Get into the car quickly! Your plane is waiting. Maps and weather charts are in the pits. Come on; snap it up!" A flash of resentment passed through Dawson. The major was a ground officer. He wore no wings on his tunic, nor any decoration ribbons, either. As a matter of fact, he looked to Dave like one of those well known forty-eight-hour soldiers. In other words, a man who gets a commission while en route to Washington, and comes back wearing his brand-new tailor-made uniform. "Something up, Major?" Dave asked quietly. "What's all the rush about?" "What would you suppose?" the major came right back angrily. "There happens to be a war on. Also, lots of things to do. H.Q. has ordered for you to report in a hurry, and that's what you're to do. Now, let's get going, you two!" Dave knew that he was letting his anger get the better of him, but he couldn't help himself. This staff major was the type of officer that always gave him a pain in the neck. He'd met up with more than one during his war career. Put an officer's insignia on their shoulder straps and they went sky high with importance. And the higher the rank they held, the higher went their belief in their own importance. Maybe that was okay around training camps or induction centers. But that sort of thing didn't go with shot and shell-seasoned veterans. So naturally it didn't go with Dave. "Just a minute, Major," he said. "I think first I should report the engagement." "What's that?" the other gasped, rising to the bait. "Did you say engagement?" "That's right, Major," Dawson assured him. "Half a dozen Zeros attacked us about ninety miles off shore. We got them all, but they must have been carrier-based. I heard a report that there is a huge Jap attack force heading for this coast. Of course, it may be only a rumor, but--" "Heading for _here_?" the Major gulped, and his face tightened. "Are you sure?" Dave shrugged and gestured with a hand. "Well, I didn't actually see them, Major," he replied truthfully. "But the Japs have pulled a lot of fast ones in this war. You never can tell, you know." "No, you never can, that's right," the other said, and glanced nervously toward the west. "Well, your plane is waiting. I'll run you over, and make the report _myself_ to the commanding officer. A huge Jap attack force, eh?" Dawson didn't say anything. He simply nudged Freddy Farmer's arm, and the pair stepped into the jeep. The major stalled the engine twice before he got the jeep going. And then he made a dash down along the edge of the field as though Jap troops were actually rushing up from the other side. He braked to a screaming halt in front of the field office, waved a hand at a waiting plane some fifty yards farther on, and then leaped out and dashed inside.