g the Zeros as close
to Jackson's approximate position as he dared, and then jumping them and
shooting them down. But in the next moment he would tell himself that
that was like hoping for the moon on a silver platter. And what's more,
it was a completely nutty idea for the very reason that neither Freddy
nor he knew the _exact_ location of Jackson's force. They could only
figure out approximately where it was. For that reason they might well
stumble on it by accident and the Japs sight it just as clearly as they
did. And if that should happen, and he should wheel around to shoot
them down, they could indeed give him the horse laugh. They had only to
bank around and open their throttles wide, and the MK-11 would never
catch them in a hundred years.

And so, with that decided, he would promptly consider the second bad
choice. That of leading the Zeros in a direction that wouldn't even come
close to the Yank aircraft carrier task force, and then sitting down in
the water when the fuel was used up. As a matter of fact, the Zeros
would be out of fuel long before then. So maybe the choice of leading
the Zeros on a crazy wild goose chase out across the vast reaches of the
Southwest Pacific was a good one to make.

"But, doggone it, no!" Dawson argued with himself. "Freddy and I knew
something that can mean plenty to Colonel Welsh and Admiral Jackson. And
to the forces attacking Guadalcanal, too. We've just _got_ to get that
information through, somehow. And that's all there is to it, darn it!"

Yes, that's all there was to it, darn it! Except for the one ever
tantalizing word. The word _how_. How to shake off the trailing Jap
Zeros? How to find Jackson's task force, wherever it was? How to do
this? And how to do that? Dawson groaned in bitter anguish and pressed
one clenched fist against his forehead, as though in so doing he might
force open some little door in his brain, and find out all the correct
answers. It didn't work out that way, however. And then, eventually, he
felt Freddy Farmer tapping him on the shoulder and heard his pal's voice
in his ear.

"I say, Dave, old thing, I just thought of something. Maybe we can go
these beggars one better, in spite of them, and come out on top, you
know."

Dawson twisted around in the seat, and made a little impatient gesture.

"Then for cat's sake spill it!" he cried. "I've thought my brain ragged,
but no soap. Have you really figured up an idea? Shoot it to me quick,
pal."