to be."

"Right you are, Dave!" the English youth called forward to him.
"I'll--Oh, good gosh! Dave! How about your radio? Has it got a mike?"

Impulsively Dawson switched his gaze to his radio in the front pit. And
it was then that he had the queer feeling of lumps of cold lead bouncing
around in the pit of his stomach. There were earphones for the radio,
but no mike. The little hook at the side was empty. And the wire that
ran down into the set wasn't there. It had been removed completely.

"Sweet tripe!" he gasped. "This darn set's no good for sending. Not even
a mike. Hey, Freddy, have--?"

Dawson didn't bother to finish the rest. He choked off his words and
twisted around in the seat instead. And when he saw the look on Freddy's
face, and saw his pal sadly shake his head, little fingers of ice seemed
to clutch at his heartstrings. Freddy's radio set was the same as his.
Okay for receiving, but not a darned bit of good for sending.

And so it was Satan's turn to laugh now. They had stolen a plane, and
had managed to get away from the Jap carrier, but what they had hoped
and prayed for most had been denied them. They had been denied the
chance to raise Admiral Jackson's task force on the radio and reveal to
the Admiral the position and course of Admiral Suicide Sasebo's carrier
force.

Yes, that hope was gone now. Their only chance of making any kind of a
success out of this cockeyed venture was to find the Yank task force
wherever it was in that vast corner of the Southwest Pacific. They had
to find that Yank force somehow, but--but what about those three Jap
Zeros that had taken off in pursuit of them? Yes, what about _them_?

As that heart-chilling question pounded and hammered around in Dawson's
head he turned in the seat again for another look at those three Zeros.
They were in the air, now, but _climbing_. Yes, instead of coming
straight after the MK-11 the three Zeros were heading up for altitude as
though they were actually setting off on some routine patrol.
Incidentally, were it not for the fact that the three Zeros were heading
in the same direction as the MK-11, Dawson would have believed that
Freddy and he had made their escape one hundred per cent successful. He
knew differently, however. He knew darned well that the Jap pilot in
each of the three Zeros had his double-lidded eyes fixed on the MK-11,
and was keeping them fixed on it, too. But why the thunder were they
climbing? Why didn't they com