The Colonel and the others joined in a loud laugh, and then presently the senior officer's face grew serious. "You're here at my request, frankly," he said. "Here because I feel that you're just the men we need to help us crack a few tough nuts. Among those who came over with Prime Minister Churchill last December was General Sir John Gately, chief of all British Intelligence. Perhaps you know him?" "Only of him, sir," Dave replied. "I never had the pleasure of meeting him. A wonderful man, though." "The very best England has," Freddy Farmer added. "I've never had the chance to meet him, either." "Yes, Sir John is just about the best in England," Colonel Welsh said with a firm nod. "We had several talks together, and he struck me as being just about the most brilliant man I ever met. He has certainly made it hot more than once for Herr Himmler's Gestapo boys. Well, to get to the point, I talked over with him a plan I had in mind. After a moment's thought he stated that you two were the type of men that I need. Fact is, he said you were _the_ two I needed. So there's a mighty fine compliment for you. And let me hasten to add that it's a compliment well deserved, in my opinion. This is the first time I've met you, but your accomplishments in England and Libya and in the Far East are no secrets to this office." Dave laughed embarrassedly and glanced at Freddy Farmer. "It was mostly Farmer, sir!" he said. "I usually went along just for the ride." "Rot!" Freddy snorted, red-faced. "More often than not it was I who blundered us right up a tree, and you got us out of the mess. Stop being modest, my lad. You're in your own country, you know." "I'm pretty sure it was fifty-fifty," Colonel Welsh settled the argument with a chuckle. "Anyway, you're the two lads I need, and here you are. When Sir John and I reached an agreement about you, he simply started the ball rolling, and without your knowing it you were released from the R.A.F., and sent over to me. Right now you haven't any rank, and you don't belong to any branch of service of any country. What do you think of that?" Dave gulped and gave a little confused shake of his head. "What do I think of it?" he echoed. "I--well--well, it sounds as if we were headed for a firing squad, or something." "Good grief, yes!" Freddy Farmer said in a hushed tone. "At least that!" "Well, you can relax; there's no firing squad," Colonel Welsh chuckled. Then as his chuckle died, and his face became grim: "At least not a United Nations firing squad. But let's not think of it as even a remote possibility. I mean, some Axis crowd putting you against a wall. Now, here's the reason I had you sent over to me, and the plan I have in mind." The chief of all U. S. Intelligence paused, and frowned off into space for a moment as though deliberately choosing the words he would speak next. Finally he brought his gaze back to Dave's and Freddy's faces.