"Thank God!" the English youth sobbed. "Good grief, Dave, I thought you
were a goner for sure!"

"What--what happened?" Dave mumbled, and the effort to speak made his
throat burn. "What happened? Did we crash--or something? Bail out--and
forget to pull the rip-cord, huh?"

"That blasted Jap!" Freddy Farmer grated. "He slipped, and you went
crashing down on the deck on your head. Man! I was sure you had been
killed right then and there!"

Dawson blinked hard, put his finger tips to his temples and pressed as
though he could push away the fog that clouded his brain.

"Jap?" he muttered thickly. "I fell on my head? What Jap, Freddy? What
are you talking about? I haven't got a head. I've got _two_ of them.
Split right down the middle. And--Hey! What gives? What's this place?
Where the heck are we? What in thunder has happened, Freddy?"

Freddy Farmer didn't answer, because he wasn't there. He had moved away
somewhere. But he returned almost immediately and held a glass of water
to Dawson's lips. The Yank ace drank greedily, and the cold water did
wonders for the burning in his throat. It also helped to drive the fog
from his brain, and give him more strength in both mind and body.

"Thanks, pal!" he gasped when he had drained the glass of its last drop.
"You're a lifesaver, what I mean, kid. Thanks, plenty. Now, what in the
world has happened?"

But even before Freddy Farmer could form the words with his lips, a
little door in Dawson's brain seemed to pop open and vivid memory came
rushing back to him.

"My gosh, I catch!" he cried. "We had been trussed up by those Japs, and
they were carrying us up onto the deck of that U-boat! That Jap rat
officer was going to fly us to the Suicide Sasebo's flagship. What
happened? Did the dirty bums change their minds? And hey! We're not
aboard any U-boat now! Or are we?"

"If you'll only shut up!" Freddy Farmer barked, but there was great joy
glistening in his eyes. "Just keep that mouth of yours shut tight, and
I'll tell you as much of it as I can."

"Okay, go ahead," Dave told him. "The lip is all zippered up, kid.
Shoot."

"Well, they trussed us up, and carried us out on deck," the English
youth began. "The beggar who was carrying you, though, slipped and went
flat. He just dumped you off, and you landed on your head. I guess it
was your helmet that saved your life. At least, saved you from a nasty
skull fracture. However, you went out cold, much to the amusement of th