"Hey, what's the matter with you?" the redhead demanded angrily. "You getting the jim-jams? This is no time to fall apart. Snap out of it. Get hold of yourself. Boy! Wouldn't the big boss like to see you, now. I knew he should have put me in charge of this station." The pilot suddenly went white about the corners of his mouth, and there was cold murder in the eyes he fixed on the redhead. He reached out and tapped the redhead on the chest with the barrel of his automatic. "Just say that again, lug," he grated. "Go on! Just say it again!" The redhead seemed to wilt like a flower tossed into a blast furnace. He gulped and swallowed hard, and backed away a couple of steps. "Okay, okay!" he got out hastily. "I was only kidding. But I only thought--" "Nobody wants you to think!" the pilot snarled, and took a step forward. "Get it? Cut out the thinking. Now, get on that key and contact Frisco. Tell them we've got them on ice, and what do we do now? Tell them this place is cooked, if either of these three should get away. Find out where he wants them delivered, or what. He was nuts to have us go hunting them, and bring them back here. They'd have been stuck there a week, anyway. And that's more time than we need to fly these guns and stuff to the other places. But skip that last. Don't tell them that, understand. The big boy wouldn't like it." "I'll say he wouldn't!" the redhead said with a tight laugh, and went through the motions of slitting his throat from ear to ear. "Okay. I'll find out what we do now. Fun, I hope." The redhead flung the trio of prisoners a leering look, then went to the back of the room and sat down at the radio equipment. A moment or so later the crackling of the spark gap of a wireless set filled the room. Dave closed his eyes and strained his ears. He caught the signal being sent out. It was S-T. It was repeated a dozen times or more. Then the man stopped sending, and there was silence as he listened to whatever was coming through his earphones. After twenty seconds or so he started sending again. Dave caught all the signals, but that's all the good it did him. He glanced at Freddy Farmer and Colonel Welsh, and knew that they were catching the signals, too, and that the code going out over the air was just as meaningless to them as it was to him. For five minutes the redhead "talked" with the man at the other end of the wave length. Then he switched off his set, got up and turned around with a grin on his face that stretched from ear to ear. "He thinks we're great guys," he said to his partner. "He thinks we're the nuts." "Horses to what he thinks!" the pilot growled, and ran a nervous tongue tip along his lower lip. "What do we do now? What are his orders?"