"Well, what about it?" he asked quietly. "If we get in as wounded or fight-dazed Luftwaffe pilots," Dawson said with a shrug, "the chances are that we can get out, too. After all, Farmer and I read, write, and speak German. Also, we've been in that part of the world before. Of course, I'm giving just a brief outline of the set-up. It will take some thinking over, and planning. But I sincerely believe we'd stand a fair chance for success. As you well know, after an air raid things are in pretty much of a confused state. During that confusion we might be able to cash in. We might even be able to get a look at this Number Sixteen Kholerstrasse." "But about getting back to England, Dawson?" Colonel Fraser said, as the look of disbelief began to fade from his eyes. "How would you get back?" "That would take some thinking over, too, sir," Dawson smiled at him. "But, offhand, I'd say there were a couple of ways that might work. One, a Yank or R.A.F. plane could make a night or early dawn landing at a certain spot near Duisburg at a prearranged time, and take us aboard. Or we might cross the border into one of the Occupied countries and get in touch with the Underground, and have them send us home through the usual channels." "Or even contact one of my men, if any are left, and let him get you out," Major Crandall murmured, as though to himself. Then, looking at Colonel Fraser, he said, "Dawson is dead right, sir, when he says that it requires a lot of thinking over and planning. But, frankly, I'm convinced more than ever that he really has got something workable. And after all, time is short, and we've got to do something at once. The twenty-fourth is Friday, you know, sir." The senior officer didn't reply at once. He turned his head and looked at Freddy Farmer. "What do you think about it?" he asked. "Would you want to go on such a mad mission?" "Even if I didn't want to, sir, and I most certainly do," Freddy replied, "I'd go along anyway to make sure that Dawson didn't blunder into any trouble." "I was misunderstood!" Dave cried. "This would be strictly a solo venture. I couldn't possibly meet with success, if I had to carry Farmer around on my back, too!" Colonel Fraser looked at him, then switched his gaze to Major Crandall's face, and smiled faintly. "Maybe that is the secret of their past successes, Major," he said. "The ability to pull each other's leg, when actually death is staring them in the face. Well, I suppose that settles it. Only it seems too utterly impossible. It--" "Just a minute, sir, if I may?" Dawson interrupted. "That job you sent us on in Nineteen Forty was also a parachute over enemy territory job. What did you honestly think of our chances then, sir?" "Frankly," the senior officer replied gravely, "very slim indeed." "But we were lucky enough to get back, sir," Dawson said quickly. "So why shouldn't we be just as lucky this time?"