ry bomber pilot and crew member would believe it," Allison said
grimly. "Why don't you report it and ask for a chance to check up?"

"I've already gone over the head of Sim Jones once and got socked for
it," Stan said. "But O'Malley ought to report it."

"Sure, an' I'll be after seein' Colonel Holt meself." O'Malley ran his
fingers through his mop of red hair. "I'd as soon have this Jones bird
after me as not."

After that the talk got around to the raid on Huls. Allison's ship had
come through with only a few bullet holes. His bombardier had laid their
eggs squarely on a factory building. It had been a good show for the
Forts and Libs.

"What I'm worried about," Allison said as he got ready to leave, "is
that the Wellingtons and Lancasters will blow Berlin off the map before
we are able to penetrate that far."

"Them nighthawks?" O'Malley showed his scorn by frowning savagely.
"Flyin' boxcars!"

"They haul a lot of TNT and they get through, to their targets, but
there'll be a lot of stuff for the precision sights of the Forts and
Libs," Stan said. "You notice when they want important targets like
locks or sub pens or carefully placed factories they send you boys to
get them."

"I know, old man," Allison said with a grin. "But I'd like to make the
Berlin run."

"With those hidden fighter fields out of the way you could go in and out
alone," Stan pointed out. "The way it is now, they keep sending up
fighters all along the route."

"I have to run for it," Allison said. "Pilots meeting."

After he had gone Stan and O'Malley headed for Colonel Holt's office.
Bugs and Splinters came in just as they were leaving. They were both
highly excited. They had been assigned to active duty. Stan smiled at
them but he was thinking that they were taking the places of the men who
had been in his flight.

The boys were waiting for the colonel when Sim Jones came out of a side
door. He paused for a moment. Stan eyed him coldly; O'Malley walked on
into the colonel's office without speaking.

"I suppose you think I deliberately tricked you, Wilson. You're headed
for the Old Man." His lips pulled tight. "I don't blame you, but I
didn't pull that stunt to get you cut out. It was a boner on my part."

"It was," Stan agreed dryly. "And I'm not squawking to the colonel."

Sim looked Stan in the eye; he flushed a deep red. "I figured I was so
good I could cut back and take out all three Jerries."

"Forget it," Stan said and grin