With a nod and a smile the Yank air ace turned and started walking over toward pilots' mess. His throat was dry, and he wanted a coke. After he'd had one he'd go to see Major Starke, the C.O., about getting a replacement plane. He was about halfway there when suddenly he became conscious of the fact that everybody about the field was staring at a lone Lightning circling about three or four hundred feet overhead. He took a look himself, and instantly felt very sorry for the pilot in that plane. Two of his wheels were down, but the other was still up in its recess. It was the starboard nacelle wheel that was obviously stuck, and as the plane circled slowly about Dave could see the pilot struggling desperately to get his third wheel down. But he wasn't even beginning to meet with any success. His starboard nacelle wheel was up in its recess to stay. "Now there's a sweet thing!" he heard a voice in back of him say. "He can't get his third wheel down, and he can't get the other two back up so he can come in on his belly. Tough luck for the guy." Dawson turned to see one of the ground officers from Operations standing just behind him. The man was staring at the plane, and absently speaking his thoughts aloud. "Who is it up there?" Dave asked. "A captain by the name of Farmer," the other said without taking his eyes off the circling plane. "He just joined us a couple of days ago. A heck of a thing for him to bump into on his first test hop, I'll say." "Farmer?" Dawson gasped after a moment of stunned silence. "Freddy Farmer! Boy, are the two of us running in luck, I don't think. Me with a lame duck, and Freddy with a jammed landing gear!" "You know him?" the other officer grunted. Then, as he looked at Dave, "Oh, you're Dawson, his pal, aren't you? Well, cross your fingers, Dawson. Just now as I left Operations he was pleading with the Old Man to let him come in on two wheels. But those things come in very hot, and the Old Man wants him to fly off and hit the silk. Only a screwball would--" But Dawson didn't wait to hear the rest of the officer's opinion. He spun around and went legging it over to the Operations Office. The door was open and he heard Major Starke talking over the R.T. to Freddy Farmer in the air. "I know, Farmer," the C.O. was saying. "You might get away with it, but it's too risky. Pilots are more valuable than planes to me. So long as you save your neck, writing off that plane doesn't matter so much. Head east and get some altitude; then cut your switches and go over the side, Farmer. I'll send a jeep out to look for you, and pick you up."