blighters, and how, as Freddy had said. Of all the
fighting forces to come out of Nazi Germany, the U-boat commanders and
crews were the worst. Human life, and particularly the lives of women
and children, meant even less to them than it did to the Gestapo. Steel
sharks of the sea, they were called. To call them that was an insult to
a real man-eating shark. There just wasn't any name to call those who
manned Nazi U-boats, because there is no name in any language that
adequately describes them.

Yes, the dirty U-boat blighters! Down there on the bobbing raft were
four who were no doubt victims of a terrible life-and-ship-destroying
explosion that had probably come in the dark of night. As those and
other bitter thoughts raced through Dawson's mind, he impulsively eased
back the Wright-Cyclone's throttle and slanted the nose of the Vultee
downward.

"How I wish this was a flying boat, and we could pick up those poor
beggars!" he heard Freddy Farmer groan.

"You and me both!" Dave agreed. "We have a radio, thank goodness. So we
can get help sent out before those fellows have to spend another night
at sea. I wonder how long they've been floating around?"

"Quite some time, I fancy," Freddy Farmer said. "The chap waving his
shirt seems to be the only one with any life in him. The three huddled
down in the raft might as well be dead. Sights like that one make me
thank my lucky stars I'm in the air end of this blasted war."

"You can say that again for me!" Dawson echoed. "At least in the air you
get it clean and fast. Mostly, anyway. Check and double-check! The boys
that really deserve the medals and the praise in this scrap are the
merchant marine fellows. They have nothing to fight back with except a
pea-shooter at the stern, and maybe one on the bow. They're perfect
floating targets twenty-four hours a day. If their engines break down,
heaven help them! Yes, my hat is off to those fellows, and I don't mean
maybe. I--Hey, Freddy! See that? He's trying to send us a message with
his shirt, isn't he? He seems to be waving it down to the right more
than down to the left."

"That's right!" Freddy Farmer cried. "That's the old International Morse
code done with a flag. To the right is a dot, and to the left is a dash.
And straight down in front means the end of a word. Now, where's my
blasted pencil, and I'll put it down. There he put it down in front
three times! That means the end of the message. If he'll only repeat
it