slope with a big cleared field in the middle o' the woods. There on that field was at least seventy Jerry fighter planes." O'Malley paused to cram a large bite of pie into his mouth.

"Fighter field. Did you get its location?"

"Sure. An' I thought I'd give those fellers a grand scare. There wasn't a plane in the air, so I was safe. I zoomed up an' over an' came down in a dive." O'Malley paused and shook his head. "You'd never believe it. I could hardly believe me own eyes. When I came back down to scare the daylights out o' them Krauts, there wasn't a plane on that field. They just vanished." O'Malley looked hard at his pie and kept on shaking his head.

"It's all right to tell that yarn to me, but don't ever tell it to a general," Stan said. "Did they all take to the air?"

"Nary a plane in the air. It's some black magic them Krauts have conjured up, if ye ask me."

It was clear that O'Malley was in dead earnest. Stan believed O'Malley had seen the planes. He also believed there was some trick the Germans had worked out to hide their fighter fields and to protect them.

"We'll have another look," O'Malley said. "I have the place spotted."

"Being able to get fighters out of sight so quickly would account for our not being able to knock out their fighter fields," Stan said. "We'll have to give this some thought."

"It ought to get us special duty," O'Malley said.

"I'll bet you slipped inside their warning system and caught them flat-footed. But there must be some way they get parked planes moved so fast."

"We'll be the b'ys to find that out," O'Malley answered.

"I doubt if we ever make anybody swallow your story," Stan said.