e
could hardly breathe. And there was the sting of hot tears at the backs
of his eyeballs.

"No land--not a darn sight of it!" he heard himself mumble. "And I had
hoped--oh gosh, how I had hoped! Darn it, there _has_ to be land, or we
just can't possibly make Port Moresby. And I can't--"

He let the rest trail off and stared bleak-eyed at the limitless stretch
of water to the south. He wanted to turn around in the pit and say
something cheerful to Freddy Farmer in back. Say any old thing that
would take the sting out of what his pal must be thinking, too. But
somehow he couldn't turn around. Somehow he couldn't even think of
anything to say. He felt absolutely powerless to move. It was as though
he were a dead man looking out across a dead world.

And then, suddenly, a bunched fist came down on his left shoulder, and
he almost fainted from the pain in his chest as Freddy Farmer's wildly
shouted words smashed against his ear drums.

"Dave, look! Off there to port! Dave, look, look, old chap! A lot of
ships. A carrier task force. _It's Jackson's force, Dave! Jackson's!_
There's our task force. Dave! It's a miracle, a blessed miracle! There's
the task force!"

For one brief instant more Dawson couldn't move. Then he managed to turn
his head, but he could see nothing but swimming lights and shadows. The
pent up emotions within him had broken their bonds, and hot tears that
he couldn't check filled his eyes and blurred everything. That made him
angry at himself, and at everything else. And with angry motions he
rubbed and brushed the tears from his eyes. And then when he took
another look he saw what Freddy Farmer's sharp eyes had seen first. Far,
far off to port, and so low down on the horizon that they looked like no
more than a cluster of bugs on the water, were the two carriers, the
destroyers and the cruisers and supply ships of Admiral Jackson's task
force. Even though the distance was great, he could recognize them for
what they really were. And a happiness such as he had never known
flooded throughout his entire body.

"Jackson's force?" he heard himself echo weakly. "But what the heck?
What's it doing over there? That's a night's steaming from the search
area! Or--or have we been flying in circles all night long? It's--it's
like a dream. A mad, crazy dream! I--"

"Dave, snap out of it, for Heaven's sake!" Freddy's voice cut short his
mumbling. "Fly over to them. Fly over to them. _That's our task force!_
Do