this is a bit different from my regular procedure. You're not going across as strictly Commando material. No, that's not right, either. You'll be all Commando. Don't worry about that. But in addition, there'll be an extra little assignment for you two to carry out."

"Sounds interesting, sir," Dave said eagerly, as the other paused. "What's the extra little assignment?"

The smile faded from Major Barber's face, and he shook his head vigorously.

"No soap, Dawson," he said. "You're not going to find that out right now. In fact, not until after you have arrived in England. And incidentally, you're leaving for England tonight."

Coming right on top of everything else that had happened, the Major's last statement brought both boys up straight in their chairs. They exchanged wide-eyed glances, and then focussed their gaze on the senior officer again.

"Leaving for England tonight?" Freddy Farmer echoed breathlessly. "I say! That's wonderful! Positively marvelous!"

"Figured it might please you, Farmer," Major Barber said with a smile. "Yes, all three of us are leaving for England tonight. You'll have me for company, if you can stand it, as far as Botwood, in Newfoundland. An Army bomber is waiting at Mitchel Field for us right now. At Botwood, though, we'll part company. At Botwood you two will get further orders."

The Commando chief paused for a moment and stared thoughtfully down at the desk top. Eventually he raised his eyes and gave a little half shrug.

"I don't want you two to be too much in the dark," he said slowly, "so I'll tell you that this show, if carried out successfully, will have a marked bearing on whether or not the United Nations open up that second front that everybody is yelling their heads off about. And—take it as a sincere compliment, if you wish—a good chunk of that success is going to rest on your youthful shoulders."

"Well, that clears up everything, sir," Dave said with a grin. "Now we know what this is all about."

"Stop fishing, Dawson," Major Barber chuckled at him. "It won't do you the least bit of good. Not that I don't trust you two as much as I'd trust my own father and mother. But that's not the point. As we all know, the fewer who know about a surprise, the more of a surprise it is. And I definitely want this little business to be a surprise to Hitler and his bunch of cutthroats. So until the time is ripe, nobody is being told a thing about anything."

Grave and serious as the conversation was, Dave couldn't stop the smile that tugged at his lips. The Major spotted it and cocked an eyebrow.

"Something strike you funny, Dawson?" he asked.

"No, not funny, sir," Dave replied instantly. Then with a flash side glance at Freddy's intent and grave face, he went on, "I agree with you that it's best to wait until the time is right for final instructions. Besides snoring something terrible, Farmer, here, often talks in his sleep."

It was just the thing needed to ease the mounting tension. Major Barber burst into gales of laughter, and Freddy Farmer practically shot straight up out of his seat, and turned all the colors of the rainbow. Dave put out a protective hand.

"Take it easy, pal!" he cried. "I've got a witness to anything you do. Better wait until we're alone."

The red remained in Freddy's cheeks, but he made no move toward Dave. He simply regarded him with scorn, rather like something the cat had dragged in. Then he looked at Major Barber.

"Your two test men gave you a complete report on tonight's little affair, sir?" he asked. "They told you everything?"

The senior officer blinked, and stared at Freddy as though trying to find out what was behind the words.

"Why, yes, I believe so," he said. "But was there something they left out?"

Freddy looked at Dave with friendly pity in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Dave," he said quietly. "I know I promised, but—well, that last remark from you deserves the punishment of the truth. Sorry, and all that. But you asked for it, old man."

"Say, what is this?" Major Barber demanded, leaning forward. "What truth about Dawson?"

"Then they didn't tell you that part, sir?" Freddy Farmer murmured. "That it was Dawson who threw himself flat to the sidewalk and screamed for the police while I battled those two chaps?"

"Ouch!" Dave cried, and clapped a hand to his forehead. "Will I never learn to keep my big mouth shut!"

CHAPTER FOUR

Next Stop, England!

Grey skies covered the world from north to south, and from east to west. Standing on the tarmac of the now world famous Botwood field, from which countless planes had been flown by unsung air heroes to eagerly awaiting pilots on the other side of the Atlantic, Dave and Freddy tugged their flying suit collars a bit tighter and looked at each other, bright-eyed.

"Some sight, hey, pal?" Dave grunted, and swept a hand toward the array of war planes of all descriptions that lined all four sides of the field. "It would kind of make Adolf feel sick, if he could get a look at that bunch."

"He'll hear them, if not see them, soon enough!" Freddy replied with emphasis. "And I hope I'll be in one of them that's right over his head. I say! What beastly weather, though!"

"This?" Dave echoed, and looked at him in surprise. "Why, I should think it would make you feel homesick. I've seen plenty of weather just like this on your tea-drinking island. Holy smoke! Every time the sun comes out in England, you birds don't know what it is that's happened for the first couple of minutes. What's the matter, pal? Down in the dumps because you've been hooked for a bit of possible action?"

"No, not a bit of it," Freddy sighed. "Just the usual unhappy feeling. Man! How I'd love to be given a war assignment without having to worry about you being along to probably mess up the whole business! But I suppose that's the cross I must bear."

"You'll bear a punch in the nose, if you don't look out!" Dave growled. "But, kidding aside, I wonder what comes next? Major Barber dropped us like hotcakes the minute we arrived in that Army bomber. Told us to go get breakfast, and have a look around. Well, we've been doing that for a couple of hours now. Me, I could do with those further orders he was talking about."

"Me, too," Freddy said with a nod. "But I fancy he'll get around to it when he's good and ready. This isn't the first time we've been kept in the dark as to what things were all about."

"Nor will it be the last!" Dave grunted. "But I don't blame the Major a bit. In this war you can tell a secret to the Sphinx, and first thing you know it's all over town. But that Major Barber is a good guy. And plenty! Me for him, any day in the week. I'll wait, if he says so."

"Nice of you," Freddy chuckled. "You blasted well will, and jolly well like it, too, my fine friend."

"Okay, okay!" Dave growled. "I was only pointing out—Oh, skip it! What type bomber would you like to go across in, Freddy? There're all makes here."

"Any one of them, it doesn't matter," Freddy replied, "just so long as it gets me to England, and soon. I say! Have a look at those two transports coming in to land! They don't plan to ferry those big things across empty, do they? I don't see any stores of equipment laying around here waiting for transportation across."

Dave didn't reply for a moment. He stared at the two huge Curtiss-built troop transports that were circling the field and coming around into the landing wind.

"Those aren't new jobs waiting to be ferried places," he grunted after a moment or two. "They've seen service. They're not right off the factory assembly line. They're—Well, what do you know!"

Dave breathed the last as one of the two planes touched ground and braked to a gentle stop. The fuselage doors opened and U. S. Commando-garbed troops started pouring out. The second transport landed and started unloading