ere actually all against you,
proves that the confidence I had in you was justified. But in everything
there is ever present the little item of fate. A tiny little something
that is beyond man's power to see in advance, or even to counteract when
it happens. For example, that technical sergeant at Bolling Field. I
would have staked my life on that man. But, as things turned out, I was
completely mistaken. And so with you two, or with each of my agents at
the stops you were to make. Because of something you couldn't guard
against, or prevent before death came to you, the contents of one of
those sealed envelopes might have fallen into enemy hands. What I mean
is, one of the envelopes might have been opened, the contents read, and
then the envelopes resealed."

"But, Colonel," Dawson protested, "one of us would--"

"I know, I know," the colonel said, stopping him with a gesture of his
hand. "But look at it this way. Suppose von Steuben had knocked you both
out while you still had the envelopes? Suppose he had opened one, read
its contents, and resealed it so that you'd never have guessed? What
then? When you came to and found you still had the envelopes, you'd
never dream that they had been touched."

"But I'd be plenty suspicious, sir!" Dawson interrupted. "I'd--"

"Would you?" the colonel's quiet but firm voice stopped him again. "But
von Steuben was no fool! What if he stole your money and Farmer's money,
too? What then?"

"I see what you mean, sir," Dawson said, and grinned sheepishly. "We
would have thought we'd been victims of some holdup."

"Exactly," the colonel agreed. "A crazy little twist of fate over which
you had no control whatever. Yet the damage would have been done. So I
had to do what I could to find out if there had been any crazy twist of
fate. In other words, each of those sealed envelopes contained the
information, in code of course, that the _next_ bombing plane to pass
through would carry the President, and members of his party."

Dawson blinked, and suddenly the truth hit him between the eyes.

"What, sir?" he gasped. "You--you mean this B-25 is _supposed_ to be
carrying the President?"

"I mean just that!" the colonel confirmed grimly. "_If_ enemy agents
have learned what was in those envelopes, they will believe that this
bomber is carrying the President as a passenger. The President has
already left Washington in secret, and it wouldn't take much checking
by enemy agents to find out t