"And I sure hope it means us!" Dave echoed the thought aloud, as he and Freddy walked forward along the flight deck. "And how, I do!" "Do what?" Freddy asked. "What's buzzing in that brain of yours now?" "That we see some action," Dave replied, and jerked his thumb toward the north. "You know, Freddy, I've got a hunch. I've got a hunch, sure as shooting." "You usually have," the English youth sighed. "What is it this time?" Dave stopped walking, half turned, and faced his pal. "The break we've been hoping for, praying for," he said in a low voice that was tight and full of excitement. "I have a hunch we're going to get that break. Wait, now! As the Exec said, we're in enemy waters now. From now until tomorrow night when we make the rendezvous, that unknown skunk aboard this Carrier is going to try and make contact with the Japs. I feel dead certain that he hasn't made any effort yet. He's been lying doggo until the Indian got into enemy waters. Beginning with now, though, he's going to try and make that contact." "Well," Freddy muttered with a scowl, "as you would say, so what? How's he going to make contact? How are we going to know it? How are we going to be able to spot him? We haven't the faintest idea who he is, one of the officers, or one of the men. Maybe he's just an engine wiper buried down deep below decks. Maybe--" "No, you're wrong there," Dave interrupted. "I've figured it out that he is either one of the pilots, or one of the mechanics. Nobody but pilots and mechanics have access to the flight hangar, you know. And that's where Commander Jackson and Lieutenant Commander Pollard were killed. No, I've figured all along that the man we're after is connected with the actual flying end aboard ship." "Again, so what?" Freddy grunted. "Even suppose that he's one of the pilots? And I personally have the feeling that he is. What help is that? We're flying in only one section, one patrol trick. He could be in one of the other sections. He could take off, make his contact when out of sight of the Indian, and return on schedule, and neither you nor I be one bit the wiser." "You're such a help!" Dave growled. "I know. Heck! Maybe I'm talking just to make myself feel good. I don't know. Just the same, I've got a hunch that that break is going to pop for us, and soon. A mighty strong hunch, too." Freddy Farmer pursed his lips, and then let a little sigh slip between them. "Well, I'm certainly not pulling against you," he murmured. "You have more hunches than a stray dog has fleas. But if I ever hoped and prayed that one of them would come true, it's certainly this one. And I mean that from the bottom of my heart." "Then keep praying!" Dave said grimly as an eerie chill suddenly rippled through him. "And meantime, it might be a good idea for us to watch our step. I've got another hunch somebody's been watching _us_!" CHAPTER FIFTEEN _Battle Stations_