and out among the parked planes, close cropped Jap heads seemed to pop
up from all sides and grin and leer at him. He paid them little
attention, however. He was more interested in getting a look at the rest
of the Jap force spread out over the surrounding waters. It was
difficult, however, because folded wings and parked fuselages kept
cutting off his line of view. He did sight the two other carriers for a
brief instant--and sort of wished he hadn't. A three-carrier task force
meant at least fifty other ships of different descriptions. And a
surprise force that size could cause a lot, an awful lot, of trouble if
it got the breaks. In fact, it might well change the entire course of
the war in the far flung Pacific.

Fortunately for Dawson, he wasn't allowed much time in which to brood
over that possibility. He and Farmer soon reached a point directly below
the flight bridge. There the big Jap ushered them through a door and
along a companionway, and up a couple of more deck ladders. Their little
"walk" finally terminated in the well appointed quarters of none other
than Admiral Suicide Sasebo himself. And the mad killer was there in the
flesh, too, flanked on both sides by his runt-sized staff officers and
aides. Short, overfed, bandy-legged and squint-eyed, the whole lot of
them. At first glance they looked like a bunch of cross-eyed street
urchins dressed up for a cops and robbers masquerade.

If Dawson were to have seen that same picture flash across the screen in
a movie theatre he would have fallen out of his seat with laughter. But
there was no laughter on his lips now. Not even in the back of his
thoughts. Not one single giggle, for each pair of those eyes fixed upon
him were not the eyes of a street urchin, but of an inhuman savage who
would gladly carve him to shreds for the sheer joy of it all. No, there
was no laughter in Dawson, or Freddy Farmer, as the big Jap pulled them
up to an abrupt halt. Truth to relate, there was only a lot of cold
fear, and twice as much worry.

Suddenly to Dave's tensed senses there came a sound akin to that of
somebody putting sheets of tin to a buzz saw blade. He jumped inwardly
and then realized that the ear-rasping sound was the Jap behind him
addressing his commanding officer in their native tongue. Impulsively he
looked at the row of Jap figures to make sure his guess as to which was
Admiral Sasebo was correct. And it was correct. The little runt in the
middle of the row,