It's a habit that will never be broken, I'm afraid. So we might just as well humor him, or we'll have a terrible grouch for company."

"Rubbish!" Freddy Farmer snapped angrily. But just the same, he looked hopefully at Commander Drake. And then grinned broadly when the Naval officer nodded, and started leading the way over to his quarters.

CHAPTER EIGHT

_Black Lightning_

"What do you say, Dave; stop this blasted thing for a moment, what?"

Freddy Farmer said. "I'm coming loose at the joints. Besides, this is a beautiful spot. What is it anyway, do you know?"

"The beach at Kahuku Point," Dawson replied as he guided the jeep in which they were riding to the side of the road, and braked it to a stop.

"And you're right, Freddy, this is some spot. With that half-moon hanging up there in the sky, it's just like a picture from the brush of a great artist."

"Well, strike me pink!" young Farmer gasped as he climbed out of the jeep and gazed at Dawson. "The chap seems to have some beauty and romance in his soul after all!"

"And nuts to you!" Dave snapped as he climbed down, too. "Can't a fellow admire something without being taken for a guy with long hair who lives in a garret?"

"But the way you said it, Dave," Freddy Farmer said with a sly look in his eyes. "So soft and so deep. Do you write poetry, too, my good man?"

"Look, dime a dozen!" Dawson grated. "It was your idea to take this jeep trip around the island. So don't start any of that stuff with me. I simply said that this was quite a spot. And it is, _see_?"

"Right you are, Dave, right you are, old thing," young Farmer laughed.

"I simply couldn't pa.s.s by the chance to pull your leg a bit. First time I ever heard you admit there were such things as moons, and what not.

Just shows there is another side to you. And I like that side, _too_. So am I forgiven?"

"Aw, go spin a wing!" Dawson growled, but he grinned and gave Farmer a playful punch in the ribs. "Fact is, Freddy, n.o.body can be hard-boiled in the Islands. There's something about them that would break down the toughest egg that ever came down the pike. I've seen a few places in this old world in my few years, but somehow the Hawaiians always remain at the top of the list."

"Yes, they really are quite something, I must admit," Freddy murmured as he gazed about at the faintly silver-washed scenery. "I'm fair to being in love with them myself. What say we take a walk back along the road a ways? Or should we be getting on back to the Kaneohe Naval Air Station?"

Dawson glanced down at his wrist watch and shook his head.

"It's early," he said. "We've got lots of time. And I don't think Commander Drake will be mad at all if we stay out of his hair for a spell longer. Now, there is one swell guy, isn't he, Freddy? I went for him one hundred per cent the moment I laid eyes on him."

"A very pukka chap, and no doubt of it!" Freddy Farmer agreed instantly, and dropped into step. "We've probably bored him to tears, but he hasn't shown it for a single second. Always ready to please. Always eager to do anything to help us pa.s.s the time. That day yesterday with him is one I'll always remember. Don't believe there's a blasted thing left on this island that he hasn't shown us. A very, very top-hole gentleman, for fair."

"That, and more," Dawson grunted. "But I've a hunch he got a kick out of it too, taking us on the sight-seeing rounds. If only because it got his mind off other things. The commander is worried about the spy business here in the Islands. There are no two ways about that. If we don't spot that n.a.z.i tomorrow when the carrier force comes in, he's going to take it like a mule's kick in the face."

"I fancy we'll feel much the same way ourselves," Freddy Farmer murmured. "Makes me almost afraid to have tomorrow come. And for two reasons, too."

"One is maybe we won't find the guy," Dawson said. "What's the other?"

"That we'll find him, and then that will be that," young Farmer replied after a moment's pause. "I mean, our job will be all washed up. I gathered that Vice-Admiral Stone expects us to go back to the mainland on the next plane, after this business is all taken care of."

"Yeah, I got the same idea," Dave said gloomily. "And it's been bothering me. I'll hate like sixty to go back to instructing. To tell you the truth, once this business is all settled, I'm going to go to the vice-admiral and see if I can't get him to arrange for us to be sent to the Southwest Pacific war zone. Anyway, some place other than back to the mainland."

"I doubt that you'll have any luck," Freddy Farmer sighed. "Technically, the vice-admiral hasn't anything to say about where we go next. We are Air Forces, you know. Loaned to Naval Aviation for instruction duty.

Orders for us to proceed to any fighting zone would have to come from the Air Forces Command, not the Navy."

"Right, but did you have to bring it up?" Dawson groaned. "However, this business isn't cleared up yet. I've got me a funny feeling, I have."

"Was there ever a time when you hadn't?" young Farmer shot right back at him. "What's it this time? That we're going to fail tomorrow?"

Dawson didn't reply for a moment. He walked along the moonlit and shadowed road, hands jammed in his pockets, and a faraway look in his eyes.

"Yeah, Freddy," he eventually said slowly, "I guess you could put it that way. I've been making the old brain wheels spin over in high gear on all this business. And I stumbled on one little item that maybe throws the whole thing out of whack. Time."

"Time?" Freddy Farmer questioned with a frown.

"Yeah, time," Dawson said. "No matter how you look at it, the carrier force was far at sea when you and I stopped hearing the birdies sing.

And ..."

"But you said...!" young Farmer began.

"I know," Dawson stopped him. "I said that being as how things were all arranged, they probably took a chance and had that n.a.z.i spy go back aboard his ship. But later, when the j.a.p guessed that we were going to do things about it, he stopped taking chances."

"You certainly don't make sense," Farmer growled. "But if you're referring to the n.a.z.i spy, no matter what the j.a.prat decided, or didn't decide, the n.a.z.i was far at sea by then. And on his way to Pearl Harbor."

"Correct," Dave grunted. "But there was the item of that guy in Honolulu. Oh sure, we may spot the n.a.z.i tomorrow, but I don't think _he'll_ lead Commander Drake and his men to the Honolulu address. And even if he should, Commander Drake won't find anybody there."

"You're crazy!" Farmer snorted.

"Okay, so I'm crazy," Dave said placidly. "But that's the way I feel just the same. Doggone it, Freddy, the thing is just too open and shut, as far as we're concerned. I mean, we hold all the cards. And nothing ever works out that way. The stakes are too high for it to come off that way!"

"Rubbish!" young Farmer snorted again.

"You think so?" Dawson murmured, and turned his head to look at him.

"Okay, then. Figure it this way. One, that j.a.prat was smooth enough to hear us outside that shack, and catch us with our flaps down. Two, he was smooth enough to swipe a plane and chase us up to L.A. Three, he was smooth enough to slip time fire bombs into the mail sacks aboard the Fort we were to fly. Four ... But skip the rest. Do you think he's not also smooth enough to somehow get word to his Honolulu man, so that this end of the business won't go boom along with that n.a.z.i spy? Do you think he's dumb enough to risk the loss of an important spy contact here in the Islands by just hoping that his n.a.z.i spy won't be nailed? If you do, you're nuts, is all I've got to say. And what's more, I'd like to lay a little bet that he _also_ gets word to the n.a.z.i spy. Maybe not until the n.a.z.i sets foot on sh.o.r.e, but darn soon after that, and don't kid yourself."

"About the beggar in Honolulu, yes," Freddy Farmer said. Then with a shake of his head, "But about that n.a.z.i spy, no. He wouldn't be bothered with that, because if he's as smart as you say he'll know that his n.a.z.i spy will never be able to set foot on sh.o.r.e. I mean, if he has such communication with his Honolulu chap then he'll obviously be informed that his mail sack business failed. That we did arrive. So he'll naturally realize that his n.a.z.i spy will be identified by us before he even steps ash.o.r.e."

"Nuts!" Dawson snapped. "If you give the guy a little brains, then for cat's sake go all the way, and figure him for a lot of brains. Figure him to be able to figure it the way we have. Vice-Admiral Stone's plan, I mean. In short, that we won't grab the guy aboard ship. That we'll let him go ash.o.r.e, and trail him. Don't you see, Freddy? If that j.a.p figures that we heard all about his n.a.z.i spy sailing on one of the carriers, then he _also_ figures that we _also_ heard about the meeting in Honolulu. And he will act accordingly, believe you me!"

"Well, it's rather involved, but perhaps you're right," young Farmer said with a shake of his head. "But if we spot the chap tomorrow, I wouldn't call that failing."

"I would!" Dawson said quickly. "Nailing that n.a.z.i spy is just part of the thing. There's the Honolulu angle. Now that we're in it, we're in it all the way, as far as I'm concerned. Our big mistake was to be caught flat-footed way back at the start. So unless the whole thing is cleaned up one hundred per cent, it'll be a failure for me, is the way I look at it."

"Yes, I see your point," Freddy Farmer mumbled. "But not to change the subject, what do you think of Vice-Admiral Stone's plan for us to spot the chap?"

"Okay, I guess," Dawson replied with a shrug. "The entire force is to anchor inside the submarine nets while the vice-admiral makes his inspection of all three carriers. We'll go aboard with his party not as officers, but as gobs. n.o.body ever looks at a couple of gobs in a vice-admiral's inspection party. Besides, we won't be trailing along with all the gold braid. We'll be stationed at the gangway ladder where we can get a look at everybody, and still be noticed. All pilots will be lined up on deck, and so forth. Yeah, I think the plan is okay."

"Wish I thought so," Freddy Farmer grunted. "Strikes me as a bit too fancy, though. I can think of a lot of ways that would be just as good, and much simpler."

"Well, I'll tell the vice-admiral when he comes in," Dave said with a chuckle.

And with that they both lapsed into silence and strolled slowly along the road that paralleled the Kahuku Point beach. There was nothing to be gained by rehashing things. What was to happen tomorrow when the carrier force arrived, would happen. And that would be that. So they strolled along, one or both of them pausing every now and then to admire the moonlight on the palm trees, or the way it danced over the broad expanse of the Pacific like billions and billions of spinning silver coins. At one spot the sight was particularly awe-inspiring, and Dawson stared at it intently like a man in a trance.