craft now, and though the
Messerschmitt was perhaps three thousand feet higher than the Lockheed,
Dawson knew that he could close in on the Nazi in no time, if he wished
to.

That was just the point. Where a few moments ago he had been ready and
eager for battle, he was now filled with a sense of caution. For one
thing, what was a Nazi ME 109 doing over the Atlas Mountains? Was it
close to its base--the same base used by the mysterious Junkers
bombers--or was the pilot lost and wandering about in the North African
heavens hundreds and hundreds of miles from where he should be? And for
another thing, why hadn't the Nazi spotted him? Was the pilot dead, and
was the aircraft simply flying itself until it ran out of gas?

"Or is this a smart trick, and I'm too dumb to catch on?" Dawson
muttered the next thought aloud, and stared at the other plane that was
now circling slowly about in the air. "Is he waiting for me to come
piling in, because he has some special surprise package waiting, or
what?"

As he mulled over the question in an effort to guess at an answer that
might be close to the truth, the Yank air ace searched the surrounding
skies. However, if he expected to see any other planes in the heavens,
he was doomed to disappointment. As far as he could see in every
direction there was nothing but sun-tinted blue North African sky and a
few mountains of clouds piled up here and there.

"Maybe _I'm_ nuts!" he groaned, and gave a little shake of his head.
"Maybe I'm just seeing things. Or maybe I'm asleep and dreaming, but
don't realize it. Well, one German less is one German less, I always
say. So here goes for that bird tooting around up there. He'll--Well,
for cat's sake! Now what?"

The last was because the Messerschmitt pilot had suddenly ceased his
coasting around and had swung onto a course due south at an increased
speed. And though Dawson gaped and stared in amazement, he let no "sky
grass" grow under his feet. He instantly swung south and opened up his
two Allison engines, but continued to maintain his altitude of some
three thousand feet below the other plane.

For a full five minutes, the Nazi rocketed south with Dawson some two
miles behind him and holding steadily to the pace. At the end of that
five minutes, though, the Messerschmitt reached the edges of one of the
towering mountains of clouds in the sky. Impulsively, Dave opened his
throttles so that he would not lose the Messerschmitt in the clouds