captain looked at him sharply. He was very busy and delays did not
improve his ragged temper.

"Don't let it happen again," he snapped.

O'Malley smiled at his two fliers. "Sure, an' 'tis very ungrateful some
people are. We risk our necks to deliver these crates an' get a sour
welcome." He turned and walked away. The captain stood staring after
him. He had not met a man like O'Malley before. Usually ferry pilots
were not given to back talk.

The transport was waiting. O'Malley and his pals climbed in among an
assortment of equipment and supplies being returned to base. In a short
time they were back at their own briefing room. Three planes were ready
and they took off again.

All day they ferried Lightnings across to Malta and not once did they
sight enemy craft. O'Malley was wild when they checked in for the
evening. He glared at the grinning Captain Marks.

"Sure, an' something better bust loose tomorrow," he cried.

"Probably will," Marks answered.

O'Malley stomped away to quarters. Wilks and Liske dashed off to put in
for an immediate transfer to more active duty. O'Malley hoped they got
the transfer. He knew there was not much chance of him getting shifted,
not as long as Colonel Benson was in command.

CHAPTER III

REUNION

Stan and Allison sat in the big Lockheed transport and looked down upon
the shores of Africa. A coastal road wound along the beach. It was
war-scarred and still littered with broken tanks and shattered trucks.
This was the route Rommel had taken in his flight across Libya.

"Wonder what O'Malley's doing about this time?" Stan asked. He was
beginning to be sorry he had accepted the offer to return to Alexandria.
O'Malley likely was leading a flight over the shores of Italy.

"I'll bet he is seeing action," Allison said. "But I'm satisfied to be
riding in peace with a pip of a vacation ahead. You're not beginning to
get the bug to fight so soon, old man?"

"No," Stan answered with a grin. "I aim to have a swell time and be
ready for the big push into Europe."

The trained ears of the two pilots caught a warning signal from one of
the plane's radial motors. The motor complained for a few minutes, then
coughed and conked out completely.

"Looks like we might be due for a forced landing," Stan said.

"That would be our luck," Allison answered. "Where are we, anyway?"

"We must be near Bengazi." Stan peered down at the coast line.

A few minutes later their fears were r