mer," the
Intelligence Chief replied. "And that _is_ the very last bit of
information I'm going to give you. Now just excuse me a couple of
minutes while I tend to some of this stuff. Then we'll get along out to
Bolling Field."

"Bolling Field, sir?" Dave cried, and leaned forward.

For all the good it did him, he might just as well have yelled at the
man in the moon. Colonel Welsh seemed to forget that either Dawson or
Farmer existed as he gave all his attention to the paper work on his
desk.

It was almost ten minutes later when he signed his name to the last of
the papers, collected them, and slipped them into one of the desk
drawers which he locked with one of many keys he took from his pocket.

"Sorry it took so long, boys," he said, and reached for his service cap.
"All done now, though. So let's go."

The colonel led the way outside, locked his office door, and touched
Dawson on the arm as the Yank air ace started along the corridor toward
the main stairway.

"No, not that way, Dawson," he said, and pointed a finger the other way.
"We're still not taking any chances. Follow me, you two."

Dawson and Farmer did just that. They came out into the Washington night
by a small rear door on the ground floor of the War Department Building.
There was no guard there, and Colonel Welsh used another key from his
bunch to unlock the door. From the door they followed him through a
shadow-filled alley, down another one that crossed the first at right
angles, and finally out onto a narrow, poorly lighted street, where a
car was parked in the deep shadows of some overhanging tree branches.

"Jump in, you two," Colonel Welsh said, and opened the door. "I think we
can all sit in front. I'll be your pilot this time. But on four rubber
tires, instead of wings."

"What about our building passes, sir?" Freddy Farmer asked. "Won't the
guard--"

"I'll take care of that," the colonel said. "You can explain to him, if
you want, when you come back."

"Come back from where, sir?" Dawson asked before he could choke off the
question.

"From a lot of places, Dawson," Colonel Welsh said with a chuckle. "From
a lot of places. Now, hop in, and enjoy the ride."

CHAPTER FOUR

_Orders for Eagles_

The usually active, buzzing Bolling Field was shrouded in darkness and
looked almost completely deserted as Colonel Welsh wheeled the car up
toward the main gates. When he came within twenty yards of those gates,
however, there