sir?" he asked. "Just how do you mean they've entered the picture? Only because of the Tobolsk business?"

The American Intelligence chief gave an emphatic shake of his head.

"No, not that alone," he said. "My agent stated that he was dead certain that he had been followed in Moscow. And that he is being followed right here in London. True, he's taken all kinds of measures to trip up whoever has been shadowing him. But the lad seems to be very clever. My agent can smell him, you might say. He can even feel eyes watching him. But he hasn't yet been able to get a look at this so-called shadow of his. And you can add to that, sir, eh?"

As Colonel Welsh spoke the last he turned and nodded at Air Vice-Marshal Leman. The R.A.F. officer nodded gravely, and the corners of his mouth tightened slightly.

"Quite!" he grunted, and looked at the two youthful air aces. "The blasted thing is the most incredible mess I've ever bumped up against. Truly fantastic. You'll be sure I've gone balmy when you hear this, but it is the absolute truth. Agent Jones has also been followed ever since he returned! What's more, his flat over on Regent Street has been entered and thoroughly searched at least twice, to his knowledge. And once—though he can't say for sure—a half-hearted attempt to kidnap him was made. At least, he was grabbed during a blackout, and he received a blow on the head that didn't quite stun him. Of course, it might just have been one of those countless blackout accidents. He may have bumped into a couple of skitterish chaps, and they may have got a little bit out of hand. When the blow didn't stun him, and he wrenched himself free, the two other chaps had disappeared. So there's no way of telling whether it was an accident or the real thing."

"But it must have been an accident!" Dawson spoke up with a frown. "And after what Jones went through, maybe his imagination is playing him tricks. I mean, maybe he just thinks that he's being followed, and thinks that his place was searched. I—"

Dawson cut himself off short, and suddenly felt like kicking himself. A funny look had leaped into Air Vice-Marshal Leman's eyes. And there was also a funny expression on Colonel Welsh's face. Dawson had the instant belief that he had spoken out of turn and put his foot into it.

"You don't agree, sir?" he asked the R.A.F. officer lamely.

The funny light faded from the other's eyes, and he shook his head.

"No, I don't agree; Dawson," he said quietly. "True, I realize that it seems silly to think that the Gestapo got wind of Agent Jones, or Nikolsk, or Colonel Welsh's agent. The whole thing covers a period of about three years, but—well, I have to give credit to Himmler's gang of murderers for one thing, at least. They never forget anything. And they never give up the hunt. How they found out about Ivan Nikolsk, and his connection with Agent Jones, and his connection with the Colonel's agent, are three things we'll probably never learn. But the fact remains that the Gestapo has pulled many things out of thin air in times gone by. It is one of the smoothest working and one of the cleverest organizations in the history of man. So we would be plain blasted fools to brush any thought aside as being impossible of accomplishment. No, far better for us to assume that the Gestapo has wind of what's up, and to make our own plans accordingly."

"Check and double check on that, sir," Dawson said respectfully. "And with your permission, I'd like to withdraw that crazy remark I just made."

"Granted at once, Dawson," the Air Vice-Marshal said with a pleasant smile. "Matter of fact, I really don't blame you for making it. Would have done so myself, if I didn't know all the facts."

A couple of minutes of silence settled over the room, and then it became too much for Freddy Farmer. He inched forward on the edge of his chair, and looked straight at the Air Vice-Marshal.

"Beg pardon, sir," he said, "but may I ask why Dawson and I were ordered to report to you? I mean, is there something we can do to help straighten out the mess? And, if so, I can say for both of us that we're only too eager to try anything."

"Old fire eater Farmer," Dawson said with a chuckle. Then, glancing at the Air Vice-Marshal, he added, "He took the words out of my mouth, sir. I've been wanting to ask that question ever since we came in here."

The Chief of R.A.F. Intelligence didn't reply at once. He looked over at Colonel Welsh, and a special kind of look seemed to pass between them. Then finally, the American officer spoke.

"Yes, we had good reason to send for you two," he said. "And there is a way that you can help—I hope."

"Those last two words don't sound so good, sir," Dawson spoke up with a grin. "You mean, there's nothing definite?"

"No, I don't mean that," the Colonel replied. "I mean—"

The senior officer paused, and scowled heavily as though he were reluctant to let the rest come off his lips.

"No, I don't mean that," he repeated presently. "You two can help us, and more than you realize at the moment. However—well, to give it to you straight, it might turn out to be a dirty trick on both of you. Your war service might suddenly end with a bang, or worse."

Dawson swallowed hard at that remark, but managed to keep a grin on his lips.

"We've flirted with that kind of a situation a couple of times before, sir," he said quietly. "So maybe Lady Luck wouldn't leave us cold all of a sudden."

"Quite!" Freddy Farmer echoed. "At least, it wouldn't be anything new and novel to us, if you know what I mean?"

"I do," Colonel Welsh said with a chuckle. "But it so happens that this would be a new and novel item. That is, unless you've acted as decoys of the real thing in the past?"

"Huh, decoys?" Dawson gulped. "How's that again, sir?"

Colonel Welsh leaned forward and rested his forearms on the end of the desk.

"Obviously," he said, "the thing we want to do, and as soon as we can, is to get Ivan Nikolsk and Agent Jones together. Though Nikolsk has disappeared for the moment, we feel very strongly that he is not very far from Tobolsk. As my agent stated, his one and only aim in life was to meet his friend, or Agent Jones, at Tobolsk. Therefore there is good reason to believe the Gestapo simply scared him into some other place of hiding, and not too far away. So if Agent Jones should go to Tobolsk, the chances are that he would meet up with Ivan Nikolsk sooner or later. My agent and Agent Jones have checked, and the appearance of Nikolsk hasn't changed much. I mean that Agent Jones is certain that he would recognize him at once. And he is also certain that he can fully establish his identity to Nikolsk."

"And our job is to fly Agent Jones to Tobolsk, and land him safely, eh, sir?" Freddy Farmer spoke up excitedly.

"No, definitely not," Colonel Welsh replied evenly. "Your job will be to take the Gestapo boys off the necks of Agent Jones, and get them all wrapped up in the task of chasing you!"