ed
until his eyes ached and smarted.

"What's the matter, Dave?" Freddy asked presently. "Are we making
landfall?"

"No," Dawson replied slowly, with a little shake of his head. "I guess
I'm just seeing things. I could swear that I saw a group of planes show
off there for a split second or so."

"Planes?" young Farmer echoed excitedly. "What type? Maybe it's an
escort come out to meet us, and--But no, that couldn't be. Nobody knows
we're coming. Did you recognize them, Dave?"

"That's just the point," Dawson complained as he continued to stare into
the milky mass that was the sky. "I'm not dead sure, but I think--Well,
if you want to know, they looked like Junkers Ju-88's to me. Yeah, the
big long-range babies the Nazis used against England and shipping in the
Atlantic. But maybe I was just seeing things."

"You must have been, Dave!" Freddy said sharply. "It's my guess the
Nazis haven't any long-range bombers to spare against shipping in this
part of the Atlantic. We have far, far too much aerial cover for our
boats. Besides--"

The English-born air ace didn't continue. He stared off to the left.
Dave sensed the sudden movement and impulsively turned his head to look
in that direction, too. As a result, they both saw the milky sky split
apart for a brief moment and reveal six Nazi Junkers Ju-88's winging
along on a course almost parallel with theirs. The haze and the milky
overcast parted just long enough for them to see the six-plane
formation, and then it promptly closed down and hid all from view. But
they had seen the ships and before Dawson took another breath he piloted
the B-25 down and away on a detour course toward the north.

"You were right, Dave!" Freddy Farmer spoke first. "Absolutely right!
Those were Junkers, or I've never seen one in my life. And I've seen
plenty of them!"

"Junkers, right enough," Dawson repeated with a nod of his head. "And
that bunch was the _second_ group! In short, there must be a whale of a
big Yank convoy that they are hunting for, or else--"

Dawson stopped and shrugged, but Freddy Farmer wouldn't let it remain
that way.

"Or else what?" he demanded.

"Or else they are hunting for _all_ planes headed for Casablanca,"
Dawson replied slowly. "Go aft and get the colonel, will you, Freddy? I
think he should be told what's going on."

"Definitely!" young Farmer replied, and quickly slipped out of the
co-pilot's seat.

During the next couple of minutes Dawson virtual