d pound their way into the MK-11.

However, the Wildcat pilot did not open fire. Instead he went sweeping
past the Jap two-seater, staring at it hard. Then he circled around and
came tearing up from the other side. As he drew abreast Freddy Farmer
practically fell out of the MK-11 in his frantic efforts to signal the
truth to the Yank Navy pilot. Dawson managed to lift his right hand, and
wave, too. And then the two other Wildcats came up and took up positions
close to the MK-11. And Freddy Farmer promptly went into his dance for
their benefit, too.

Eventually the Wildcat pilots either recognized Dawson and Farmer, or
else they spotted the Yank Air Forces uniforms that the two youths wore,
and could see that at least no Japs were wearing them. Or maybe it was
for some other reason. At any rate, the section leader nodded his head,
motioned for Freddy Farmer to stop trying to throw himself out of the
Jap plane, and then pointed over toward the carrier task force. That
was all Dawson and Freddy wanted, and they both nodded vigorously in
acknowledgment. Then, with a Wildcat on each side, and one just behind
and a little above, Dawson guided the MK-11 straight for the task force.
As he reached the flanking cruisers and destroyers, he saw the countless
upturned faces on the decks, and also the Pom-Pom guns and the "Chicago
Pianos" trained dead on the Jap plane. He grinned down at them happily,
but just the same a nervous shiver or two rippled through his burning
and pain-filled body.

And then, finally, Dawson had the MK-11 banked around and sliding down
toward the stern of the Carson as the carrier knocked off knots into the
wind. That glide downward was the greatest agony of his life. Huge as
the Carson was, the confounded thing seemed to dance and skip around
before his eyes. Countless times the landing officer, with a signal flag
in each hand, blurred right out of his vision. And once he almost
fainted with fright when he got the cockeyed impression that he was
heading the MK-11 straight for the Carson's superstructure.

The one thousand years passed by, however, and the Jap two-seater was
down on the flight deck, trundling forward while deck crews hung onto
the wingtips. And finally they managed to drag it to a halt. A choking
gasp of unbounded relief burst from Dawson's lips. And tears of
inexpressible joy made his eyes smart as he caught sight of Colonel
Welsh and Admiral Jackson racing across the flight deck towar