Darkness was falling as the carrier _Black Bee_, escorted by cruisers and destroyers, sailed away from the scene of her latest triumph, her attack on the unnamed island that meant so much to the Allied cause on its way to Tokyo. Not one U. S. ship had been sunk or damaged. Jap installations had been smashed and the airfield taken. The Marines had stormed ashore in great waves, accomplishing the occupation of a greater part of the island with a minimum of loss. “It was a great day!” Kentucky murmured as he sat with his fighter pals on the flight deck. “Yes, a big day,” Blackie echoed. The elevator trap opened and from below came the sounds of voices and music. Men were singing and radios blared popular music or announced more victories. The elevator rose. It carried a new fighter to the flight deck. “That’s for Ted or Jean,” Kentucky rumbled, “if one of them comes back.” “Yes, if only one of them does come back,” Red agreed soberly. It had been a truly great day. The men below decks were happy and hilarious. But the trio on the flight deck, Kentucky, Blackie and Red, were for the most part silent. Ted was gone. No one knew when he would be seen again, if ever. Jean, too, was gone. He had somehow been lost from his formation. Kentucky had heard him say, “I am being attacked by a superior force. Notify my nearest of kin.” Had Jean been joking? There was no way to know. Men did joke in the midst of battle. That was the one way of keeping your nerves steady. Kentucky did not believe that Jean had been joking. He had scant hope of ever seeing him again. But Ted—that was different. Kentucky believed that Ted had made a safe landing on the water. “The course we are taking,” he said soberly, “should bring us in about two hours over the spot where Ted went down. I’m going to ask for permission to make a search.” “At night?” Blackie voiced his astonishment. “Sure! Why not?” Kentucky’s tone was confident. “Ted’s smart. He’ll know the sound of our planes and he’ll find something to use as a flare. If he’s there and I get near the spot, I’ll bring him in.” “I’m with you,” said Red. “Count me in.” Blackie made it three. Darkness came down like a black curtain. Through this curtain the task force plowed on. “What’s our destination?” was the question passed from man to man. Mindanao was often mentioned, but only one man—the Commander—knew what lay ahead, and he wasn’t telling. On being told of Jack’s discoveries—the book that gave him so much information about the jet plane, the note of warning attached to a tree, and the native girl who paraded in an Army nurse’s uniform—Stew found himself torn between two desires: one to fit out the Jap raft and leave the island immediately; the other, to remain to help Jack try to commandeer the jet plane and fly away. “Must be a marvelous new invention,” he commented excitedly. “Think of doing the stratosphere at 500!” “And then dropping down upon some unsuspecting Japs!” Jack added.