ually saved his life and
Freddy's. In less time than it takes to bat an eyelash, he had smashed
the throttle wide open with one hand and was hauling the Vultee around
in a wing tip water-kissing turn with the other. Had he started to climb
at that same time, the Grim Reaper still might have claimed them both,
because the four crouching figures on the raft had automatically pointed
their machine guns skyward.

As it happened, though, Dawson held the Vultee in a tight turn until its
tail was toward the raft. Then he quickly flattened out, shot forward
for a split second, and banked the Vultee over on its left wing tip. He
banked it to the right wing tip and hauled the craft up in a twisting
power zoom toward the sun-filled heavens. Only when he was well out of
range and had leveled off did he let the clamped air out of his lungs
and shake the cold beads of sweat from his forehead.

"Suffering rattlesnakes, Freddy!" he choked out. "Was that a nightmare,
or did it happen? Those bums let fly at us, Freddy! All four of them!"

There was no answer from young Farmer, and in the length of time it took
Dawson to twist around in the seat, he seemed to die a thousand deaths.
His fears were unfounded, however. Freddy Farmer was very much alive. No
bullet had snuffed out his life, though the left side of his glass hatch
was covered with a million tiny cracks. Amazement and utter bewilderment
were all that was wrong with the British-born air ace. He sat rigid in
his seat, staring at Dawson as though he had never seen him before in
his life. His face was white under his sun-and-wind bronze, and his
mouth hung open as though he had intended to yell, but had been shocked
into forgetting all about it.

"Hey, Freddy, snap out of it!" Dawson shouted, and rocked the Vultee
violently.

The English youth stared blankly for a second longer. Suddenly he
blinked, and his whole body shook like a leaf. The breath came from
between his lips in a whistle that Dawson could almost hear above the
roar of the Vultee's Cyclone.

"The blighters! The low-down dirty beggars! They shot at us;
They--they--" Young Farmer choked on his words, and his eyes opened
still wider in amazement.

It took a half second or so for Dawson to realize that Freddy was
looking at something forward and downward. Automatically, he twisted
around front and looked down. He let out a bellow of surprise. Down on
the Caribbean was a Nazi U-boat breaking surface not over fifty