gosh! Pardon me, sir!"

The Chinese looked at Dave and raised his thin brows in innocent puzzlement.

"For what, may I ask, Captain Dawson?" he said. "For what reason should you exclaim and ask my pardon? I fear I do not quite understand."

Dawson swallowed, and licked his lower lip quickly.

"I suddenly remembered seeing your picture in the London Times, and reading about you, sir," Dave presently said. "You're Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek's new Minister of War, aren't you? And the head of the Military Mission that recently arrived in England?"

"That's true." The Chinese nodded and smiled. "But I still fail to see why you must beg my pardon."

"Well, for being sort of flip with my talk, sir," Dave said. "You're a high government official, and—well, after all—"

"After all, are we not both men, Captain?" the other interrupted quietly. "And are we not fighting the same foe, each in his own way? Believe me, Captain, it is I who look up to you, because of the great and fine things you have accomplished in the name of liberty and world happiness. You, and your true friend, here. And millions of other brave soldiers, too. Yes, I am a high government official, as you say, but the higher a man gets the more he respects and admires those who do the fighting, and shed the blood. They are the ones who are winning this war, not we aged ones who are serving our respective countries in some official capacity. Youth will win this struggle, Captain. And youth will win the peace, too. But—"

Soo Wong Kai paused. His face remained grave, but as he leaned slightly toward Dawson there was a merry twinkle in his eyes.

"But what do you say we skip it, eh?" he chuckled. "Out the window with who's who, and why. Until we must part, let's just be three guys named Joe, huh?"

Both Dave and Freddy gulped hard, and then burst out laughing.

"Fair enough, it's a deal!" Dawson cried. "But I repeat what I said just now. You've sure been around, Mr. Kai. But plenty!"

CHAPTER TWO
Clocks Won't Wait

For the next hour the English air ace, the Yank air ace, and the new Chinese Minister of War would hardly have noticed a German Luftwaffe bomb coming down through the dining-room ceiling. None came down, of course, because the good old R.A.F. patroled the night skies outside, and German night fliers had long since realized that the R.A.F. boys could beat them to the punch any day in the week, and twice on Sundays. Under pressure from the Chinese official, Freddy and Dave recounted some of the experiences they'd had during the war. And under polite pressure from them, Soo Wong Kai told them many interesting stories of China.

"That's one country I sure want to visit before I die," Dave said after a short silence. "It must be very wonderful in China. I've read quite a bit about it, but I guess if you piled all the books about China one on top of the other you wouldn't even begin to scratch the surface, eh? If you get what I mean, sir?"

"Yes, I do, Captain," the other replied. "And I'm afraid you're quite right. There has been a great deal written about China, but it would take ten times as much to tell the story of the real China—the China of Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek and his people."

"There's a soldier!" Freddy Farmer spoke up with a vigorous nod. "What a splendid leader, and what splendid troops he now commands. I quite agree with Dave, sir. I, too, hope to visit China some day."

"And may that day come soon," Soo Wong Kai said gravely. "Soon, because of the things you will see in China. And soon, because of the honor such a visit would be to my country. China has come a long way, and she still has a long, long road to travel. But we shall travel that road, and we shall attain the goal at the end of that road. But there I go sounding off, when I can easily see that you two gentlemen are doing me the great honor of being polite. So—"

"No, you're wrong, sir!" Dawson spoke up quickly. "I'm enjoying every second of this talk. And I know Freddy is, too. Believe me, sir, and this is the truth: If I'm given the chance—which you can bet on that I won't be—of picking the next front to fight on, I'll pick China right off the bat."

"Hear, hear!" Freddy Farmer added his bit quickly. "Quite, sir. We were almost there, when we were in Burma just before the States came into the war. However, as Dawson says, if we have our choice next time, it will most certainly be China."[1]

"And a happy day that will be for my struggling countrymen," Soo Wong Kai said softly. "We have there, now, the Flying Tigers. True and brave airmen they are. And China will never be able to repay her debt to those gallant boys. What they have done for China is something no nation and no people could ever hope to repay in full. And to have you two fight on the China front would be much the same thing. Do not look at me so, for it is the truth when I say that I have heard your names, and your deeds, mentioned deep in my country. So, should your orders ever carry you to China, all that China has to offer is yours for the asking. And—Ah! But the truth embarrasses you, eh?"

Dawson grinned, and wished that some of the redness would go out of his face. He liked praise just as much as the next fellow, but Soo Wong Kai was sure hitting on all sixteen cylinders.

"Well, there's a couple of other fellows or so fighting in this war, too, sir," he said with a little laugh. "But thanks just the same, sir."

"And thank you, Captains, for a most pleasant meeting," the Minister of War said as he rose to his feet. "I shall always remember this happy event. And it will be my perpetual wish that some day we will meet again in my country. Again, thank you. And I bid you a heartfelt good evening, Captains."

Both Dawson and Freddy leaped to their feet, stammered out their thanks, shook hands with the Chinese, and remained at attention as he walked away and out of the dining-room.

"Well, quite an event, what?" the English youth breathed after they had reseated themselves. "Quite a splendid chap, eh? A very decent sort."

"Tops, and how!" Dave grunted, and pointed at their empty plates. "Go on and say it, pal. I can read it in your eyes."

"Say what?" Freddy demanded. "And just what can you read in my eyes, I'd like to know?"

"What you're thinking, and wishing," Dave said with a straight face. "That he'd brought along one of his official buddies."

"You still aren't making sense!" Freddy snapped. "Speak up! Get it off your blasted chest, whatever it is."

"As if you didn't know!" Dawson snorted. "If he'd brought along one of his official buddies, why then there would have been more meat ration coupons, of course. And you could have worked them for a second helping of roast beef. Don't try to kid a pal, pal! You were kind of thinking that, weren't you?"

"No, my little man," Freddy replied softly, and slowly reached for a dish of pudding he hadn't touched yet. "But would you care to have me show you what I'm thinking now?"

"Do, sweetheart!" Dave growled, and reached for his own pudding. "And you'll be combing pudding out of your hair, too. So—Sweet tripe, Freddy! Let's dive in and finish this. We're due out at Croydon Airport in a little over an hour. And we haven't packed, or paid the bill yet. And you can bet your sweet life that that Newfoundland-bound bomber isn't going to wait for us."

"Right as rain!" Freddy echoed behind a heaping spoon of pudding. "Darned decent of the Air Ministry to give us a ride by air, instead of having us make the crossing by water. A magic world, isn't it, Dave! By this time tomorrow night we'll be dining in New York City. Magic isn't the word."

"No, it's speed!" Dawson