“Robins and appleblossoms and home,” Jack murmured huskily. “Glorious thought! But I say! You’d better get that dog tag back on your neck, for we are once more on our way to war, and unless I miss my guess our next stop will be the Philippines.” “Oh! The Philippines! Lead me to them!” she exclaimed, unsnapping the dog-tag chain from the monkey’s neck. It was midafternoon by the time the natives had dragged Ted’s plane between towering rocks to a small, well-hidden cove where they might make needed repairs unmolested. “We’ve got to get out of here just as soon as we can.” Ted’s brow wrinkled. “Look! I’ve got a chart that shows the course our task force is taking.” “Wouldn’t the Japs like to get their hands on that!” Mary whispered when he had the chart spread out on a rock. “Well, they won’t. I’ll eat it first.” Ted was deeply in earnest. “Look. This is the way they are going.” “Straight away from here,” said Jack. “And straight for Mindanao.” Mary danced a jig. “Please! Oh, please take me along!” “We’ll all go—or none,” Jack said seriously. “But we’d better get busy or we’ll never catch up with our task force.” All three boys pitched into the task of examining and overhauling Ted’s plane. At length Jack came up with a very long face. “You must have hit the water mighty hard, Ted,” he said soberly. “Well, yes, I suppose I did,” Ted replied. “I don’t remember that part of the adventure very well. When you’ve been chased all over the sky by a plane that’s a freak and faster than anything you’ve ever seen on land or in the air, you’re not likely to notice a tough landing. Why? What’s the matter?” “Matter enough!” said Jack. “Your right wing is half torn away. Some of the rivets are actually gone. Many more are loose. You’ll never get me up in this kite, not until a lot of work has been done on it.” “Great guns!” Stew exploded. “We’ll never catch up with the _Black Bee_ now! And that means we miss the big show!” “There’s that jet plane,” Jack suggested. “Yes, sure!” Stew scoffed. “And who’s got it? Two Germans, three Japs, and two machine guns!” “One German, I think,” said Ted. “I’m positive that one of them fell or jumped from the plane. I saw him hit the water. Still,” he added slowly, “there are four of them, and with machine guns—that’s a lot.” “What do you need for fixing the plane?” Mary asked. “Rivets,” said Jack. “Hot rivets. Got any in your outfit?” “We might have.” The girl did not smile. “I’ll ask my dusky godfather.” She hurried down to the canoes, where the natives were having a sun bath. The boys could see her talking to the men. They found it interesting and amusing. She would ask a question of the Chief. At once they would all explode into wild talk. This would die down abruptly. Then the Chief would say a few words to Mary. This was repeated a dozen times. Then she came rushing back. “Yes,” she said, “we have hot rivets, copper ones, this big.” She held up an inch-long section of wood. “Will they do?”