dirty trick. The weather is against us as well as iverything else."

"Please be seated," the Italian officer said as they entered a large room.

The three Yanks sat down and waited gloomily. Three high-ranking Italian officers entered. They spoke swiftly in their native tongue to the officer who had escorted the boys to the room. Their words were excited and they made many motions with their hands. O'Malley stared at them sourly. Finally the junior officer turned to the boys.

"General Bolero wishes to ask you some questions."

The general smiled as he put the questions. "We wish to know how many planes and how many ships you are using. Also we wish to know at what places your forces plan to land."

Stan spoke up. He shrugged his shoulders and spread his hands wide.

"No one can answer those questions but our high command. We are only ferry pilots as you will see if you examine the flight orders of our leader." He nodded toward O'Malley.

The general turned and spoke quickly to the other officers in Italian. They looked at O'Malley and talked some more, then the general turned to O'Malley. Before he could speak, O'Malley cut in:

"What I want to know is who's responsible for the trick that was pulled on us?"

The general smiled and his medal-covered chest expanded at O'Malley's question.

"I am honored that you appreciate my clever trick," he said affably.

O'Malley scowled at the general. "'Tis a foul trick," he said. "I have been insulted an' I'll get even with you."

Stan broke in to avoid O'Malley's getting into real action against the general.

"What are you going to do with us?"

"You will be flown to one of our prison camps on the mainland. You will be treated strictly according to International Law," the general answered.

"How soon?" Stan asked. He was thinking the paratroopers might take over this airfield very soon. He knew they would be hitting the coastal fields in order to give the boys spots to work from that were closer to Italy than the African coast.

"At once, at once," the general said and he seemed suddenly nervous.

"We are in no hurry, old man," Allison said and grinned.

"Ah, but we are in a very great hurry," put in the junior officer. "General Bolero is leaving at once. You will be flown out in, say, twenty minutes. I am so sorry there will be no time for dry clothes." He bowed and nodded to four soldiers armed with rifles who had appeared through a side door. "You will go with the guards."