into the room and gulped.

"And he'll never know how close we came to never reporting to him at all!" he breathed. "Say, I wish that fire lieutenant would hurry up with those stretchers. This woman's coming around a bit. Must be in pretty bad pain. Blast Hitler, anyway!"

"Check!" Dave said grimly. "And if I ever get the chance to blast him, how I'll do it, and how I'll love it!"

At that moment the fire lieutenant returned with several of his men. And some fifteen minutes after that the three injury cases were safely in an ambulance that had arrived in the meantime, and on their way to a nearby hospital receiving station. The fire was practically out, and the heroic soot and grime-smeared firemen were getting ready to go elsewhere in the city and continue their valiant work. Guns were silent, and the long probing beams of the searchlights no longer pierced the sky. There was not even the drone of planes in the distance. Death had come to strike at London, and was now gone. Behind, it had left more wrecked buildings, more smouldering ruins, and more dead and dying. But it had also left behind something that Adolf Hitler and all of his followers would never be able to understand, and never be able to defeat. That was British courage, the superb fighting courage of the high and the low who now were fighting on a common ground shoulder to shoulder. London had once again been hurt, and she was bleeding. But London would never die, just as England would never die.

Those thoughts trickled through Dave Dawson's brain as he stared up at the flame-tinted heavens. And once again he was thrilled to the very depths of his soul to be able to be a part of all this; to do his share, and fight and fight and fight until the war-thirsty dictators were no more—until they were nothing but an evil and ugly memory.

"I say, you chaps! Blessed if I even know your names. You certainly deserve recognition for tonight's bit. Tell me your names, and I'll see that the Air Ministry hears of what you did."

Dave lowered his gaze to see the fire lieutenant standing at his elbow. He looked at Freddy, and they both shook their heads.

"We're glad we were able to help," Dave said. "Let's let it go at that. You and your men are the real heroes of London, sir. Freddy and I just happened along."

"But that's silly!" the fire lieutenant protested, and wiped his smoke and soot-blackened face with a handkerchief that was just about as black. "This isn't your regular job, you know. And for you two to pitch in and give us a hand, why—"

"Rot!" Freddy grunted. "I was scared pink every second, and know perfectly well I was only in your way."

"Me, too," Dave nodded. "Let's just leave it that way. Where did that chap go—that man you led out?"

"My word, lad!" the fire lieutenant gasped, and looked wildly about. "I'd plain forgotten all about him. Told him to wait and go along to the hospital with the others. Guess he must have wandered off. Well, I must be toddling along. More fires, you know. Good luck, you two. By George, you R.A.F. chaps are certainly right as rain, I say! Well, cheerio!"

"Thumbs up!" the two boys chorused, and watched the fire lieutenant drive off up the street.