Like a battle grey comet gone completely haywire, the other Devastator came tearing up and around, guns blazing as its pilot tried to cut in under Dave and drill the belly of his ship. But he didn't even come close. Dave held his plane in its roaring dive just long enough to let fly with a single withering blast at the zooming ship; then he flung over hard on one wing, and went curving around and up himself to hold the advantage of his altitude. As he swung around, he heard Freddy Farmer's rear pit guns chatter. He jerked his head and took a quick look, and laughed out loud. Freddy's burst had obviously been too close for comfort, for the other pilot was kicking out of his zoom and off to the other side in a hurry. "Atta boy, Freddy!" Dave yelled, and hauled his Devastator about in the opposite direction. "Shoot his pants off, but save the coat and vest for me. Let him--" Dave cut the rest off short as he happened to glance back at Freddy. The English youth had dropped hold of his guns and was staring wide-eyed toward the north. Dave checked the question on his lips and shot a quick look in that direction himself. What he saw made his heart zoom up to bang hard against his back teeth, and stick there! The smoke belching surface craft had come up over the northern horizon into full view. It was a man of war, a heavy cruiser, and Dave did not need a second look to recognize it as a Japanese cruiser. But that was not what caused his heart to zoom up his throat and lock the air in his lungs. Right behind the cruiser was another of the same class. Both ships were slamming along through the water, and even as Dave stared at them they changed course and veered around to the south. On they came at top speed, and for a crazy instant Dave thought they had sighted his Devastator and were steaming southward to blast him out of the air with anti-aircraft fire. It was, of course, an absolutely crazy idea, and it was gone almost as it was born. And then an inkling of the truth cut through his brain. Cold chills rippled down his spine, and the inside of his mouth went bone dry. He impulsively glanced at his radio panel, and gave a savage nod of his head. "That must be it!" he grated through clenched teeth. "The rats in that other Devastator _did_ use their radio! They must have sent out the Indian's position, and those cruisers heard it. Now they're racing south to get the Indian under cover of darkness. That's it, sure as shooting. The rats figure that if they can't deliver the stolen plans of the battle operation in time, they can at least do some damage. Yeah! Give away the Indian's position and have her blown out of the water with her planes helpless in the dark. Good grief! Why are such vermin ever born?"