CHAPTER X

GROUND SLEUTHING

Three Hendee Hawks nosed out across the navy field and roared south.
Stan's ship formed the spearhead of a sharp V. O'Malley refused to keep
still. He sang and talked about everything he could think of, which was
a wide range of subjects. Allison held the right hand slot and said
nothing. Stan held the big motor up ahead of him at a pace that would
have ripped the pistons out of any other ship. He felt at home with the
engine up in front of him instead of at his back.

The take-off had been later than he had planned, but with the terrific
cruising speed the Hawks could maintain, they would reach London early.
Dusk filled the earth below and the stars came out. Stan couldn't shake
off the feeling that there was need for speed. He could not drive that
uneasiness out of his mind or bury it under other thoughts. He was sure
Allison was as worried as he. O'Malley didn't appear to have a worry at
all.

Hours later they sighted London. They sighted it because of the thick
muck of flaming shells and the searchlights knifing back and forth
through the mass of bursting steel. The Jerries were at it again and
seemed to have slipped inside the balloons and the ring of Ack-Ack guns.

"Looks like more of Garret's dirty work," Allison snarled.

"That sneakin' spalpeen! Just let me cross his trail this night. He'll
find out what sixteen Brownings can do," O'Malley rumbled.

"Don't shoot him down," Stan ordered grimly. "And keep your mouth shut
about him."

The three Hendee Hawks came roaring down upon the nice party the Jerries
had planned. The Spitfires were up, but they were off their contact.
Though they were now roaring back to give battle, they were too late to
save the city from a terrible beating, unless the Hawks succeeded in
breaking up the formation. Stan imagined he could hear the Stuka
leader's voice crackling in over the radio.

"Left wheel, dive bombers 6, 8, 10 attack positions 27, 39, 49."

He knew such a command had been given because a mass of Stukas, marked
clearly by the searchlights and the fires below, were swooping down.
They were very low over the city, far below the Hawks.

"Peel off and go into action. Break the spearhead," Stan snapped into
his flap mike.

The Hawks peeled off and went down, O'Malley first, then Stan, and then
Allison. The drone of their motors was terrific and their pilots were
slapped back against their shock pads and held there. Down Sta