de of the fence!" Stan shouted.

"Sure, an' it's nicer over here," O'Malley called back.

But a minute later he took Stan's advice. A Messerschmitt came up from
below and a Heinkel dived from above with another ME closing in from the
rear. The three fighters raked the Hawk as they closed upon her. Her
Double-Wasp coughed and sputtered. She kept on running but her zip was
gone and oil and air came sucking back inside her. Stan knew it was the
sea for him again.

"Mind getting wet?" O'Malley called back cheerfully as he sent the Hawk
down and away from the enemy.

"No, you wild man, but I do mind losing this ship," Stan shouted back.

"She isn't lost," O'Malley called back.

They were sliding down and away from the big fight. Even with a crippled
motor the Hawk could show her tail to a Messerschmitt. They saw the
Spitfires and the Hurricanes now, battling the Jerries up above, keeping
them from opening a path for the Stukas. The cruisers and the destroyers
were throwing shells into the sky recklessly and at the same time
pounding to pieces two floundering Nazi battleships.

"Sure, an' it's a fine show," O'Malley crowed.

He had hardly finished speaking, when the Wasp backfired savagely, shook
herself, then died completely.

"Now, you wild Irishman, slide her home if you can," Stan rasped.

"An' what do ye suppose they have carriers for?" O'Malley called back.

"This bus won't set down on a carrier!" Stan snapped.

He looked down and saw the carrier, her deck looking about the size of a
banana peeling. Stan figured the chances of landing on the carrier were
about one thousand to one, but he realized that would seem like
attractive odds to O'Malley.

The Irishman was circling down upon the carrier in a very businesslike
manner. So much so that the crew was running about like wild men. The
superstructure panel flashed signals neither Stan nor O'Malley could
understand. The little men on the deck fired warning rockets and a
couple of flares, and then potted at the Hawk with a pom-pom which
splattered the side of the ship.

"A nice welcome to be givin' the King's two best recruits," O'Malley
growled.

As Stan looked down, the things that could happen to them ticked through
his mind. They could run over the side and be chewed up by the screws,
coming up in the wake of the carrier as foam and grease spots. They
could top the bow and be smashed under by the monster plowing ahead at
thirty knots. They could slap