This was repeated a dozen times. Then she came rushing back.
“Yes,” she said, “we have hot rivets, copper ones, this big.” She held up an inch-long section of wood. “Will they do?”
“Nothing better,” said Ted. “But, I say—”
He did not say it, for she was away like a flash and ten seconds later the natives in their canoes were making the foam fly.
“Can you beat that!” Stew exclaimed. “Hot copper rivets in a cannibal village!”
“I can’t,” said Ted. “But I believe we’ll get them all the same.”
And they did. Not half an hour had passed when the girl and her dusky crew once more entered the harbor.
“Great Scott!” Stew exclaimed at sight of their heavily laden canoes. “Where’d you get all that equipment?”
“I think we have all it takes,” Mary said, smiling.
“You certainly have!” Jack exclaimed. “A portable forge with coal to fire it, a vise, an anvil, and all sorts of tools. Where did they come from?”
“Let’s not go into that now,” Mary replied in a most professional manner. “It was my understanding that you were in a great rush.”
“Sure! Of course, we are!” the boys agreed.
“Well, then, let’s get busy.” She motioned her men to unload.
“We don’t have rivets,” she went on, “but we do have several sizes of copper pipes and these boys will make you the finest rivets you ever saw—any size—any length.”
That this was no idle boast the boys soon discovered, for in an incredibly short time the forge was glowing and the anvil ringing.
“I only hope those Japs don’t hear that noise.” Jack’s brow wrinkled.
“They won’t,” was Mary’s reply, “for there’s a high stone wall between them and us. But if they did, and came over here without their machine guns, we would be a match for them. My natives took their rifles from hiding. There are six of them with good rifles. And believe me, they can shoot!”
With the natives to forge out hot copper rivets of just the right size and the young airmen to hammer them into place, the work progressed rapidly.
So busy were the boys that they failed to miss Mary Brown, who had slipped away almost at once. They failed, too, to note that night was falling.
“Three more rivets,” Ted breathed, “and we’re through. What luck!”
At that instant Mary appeared at the crest of a huge rock. Without speaking, she beckoned to Jack.
When he reached her side he realized that she was greatly excited.
“Tell them you’re going with me,” she whispered. “Say you’ll be right back.”
Jack told them. They assured him that they could finish the job by themselves in jigtime. Then they’d have a bite to eat.
As Mary and Jack vanished over a low ridge she said in a low, tense voice:
“You said you’d like to fly the jet plane away.”
“Would I!”
She gripped his arm to silence him. “There is just a chance that you might if only—”
“If only what?”
“If only you could beat that Nazi to the controls.”
“But the Japs?”
“That’s all right,” she whispered. “The natives were roasting pork. The Japs smelled it. They like pork. So they came over with their rifles and took over the village. The men were with you. If they hadn’t been, there might have been trouble. I told the women to feed them and give them coffee. They put a powder in the coffee. The Japs will fall asleep.”
“Great! But the German?” Jack asked.
“That’s what you’ve got to find out right now. It’s not far. We’ll be there in ten minutes—I mean to the ridge—looking down on the plane.”
“And then?” Jack caught his breath.
“Then we can decide what is to be done.”
After that they walked on in silence. Only once Jack whispered, “Listen!”
They stood still listening.
“What was it?” she whispered.
“I thought I heard a motor, not like a plane motor, but one on a boat. Guess I was mistaken.”
Once again they moved forward in the growing dusk.
CHAPTER XXIV
TWILIGHT BATTLE
They came at last to the crest of the ledge hanging over the spot where the jet plane rested on the rock beside the sea. Since the surface of the ledge sloped, it was possible for them to remain some thirty feet from the brink of the hundred-foot drop and still see the plane.
Jack would have walked to the brink of the cliff for a clearer view, but Mary pulled him back.
“Wait!” she whispered. “It is still light. If that man is down there he may see you. You’d stand out against the sky. Sit down here. We’ll watch to see if anything moves down there. There’s a steep path round this ledge. We can reach the jet plane in two minutes.” She pulled him to a seat beside her.
“There’s no one down there,” Jack said in a low voice after half a minute of silence. “This is my chance. We might as well go down.”
“No! Wait!” the girl insisted.
A minute passed—two—three minutes. Jack was restless. Darkness was throwing thin shadows over the plane, half hiding it.
He rose and walked almost to the brink of the cliff and stood there staring down.
“There’s no one,” he called softly without turning. “We’ll go down.”
At that instant a bulky figure shot past the girl and straight at Jack. Only the girl’s quick, piercing scream saved the young flier. Turning quickly, Jack threw out his arms to meet the man head on and to bring him crashing to earth close to the brink.
Realizing his perilous position, Jack fought desperately. He was no mean fighter.
His opponent was larger and older than he and slower in his movements. The battle raged over the surface of the cliff. Now they were close to the ledge, now away. Now Jack was up, and now down again. This man was a beast. Once he bit Jack’s finger to the bone. He tried to knock him senseless by banging his head on the rocks. Jack’s head was hard, but this beating made him groggy.
It was then that the big man snatched a knife from its sheath to kill Jack. His hand was up. The end appeared certain now. But suddenly something hard crashed against that upraised arm. The knife rang as it hit the rocks.
The stout hardwood club swung by the plucky girl—that for the moment had saved Jack’s life—did not stop with the knife. It came crashing down on the German’s head.
Stunned, the big fellow staggered to his feet, made a lunge at Mary, and lost his balance. He fell to the rocky surface and started to roll slowly down the slope. Ten seconds later he had disappeared over the edge of the cliff.
“Wha—what happened?” Jack rose groggily.
“No ma—matter what happened.” The girl was a bit shaky. “Come on back and sit down.”
“Wh—where is he?” Jack stammered.
“He’s gone for good. Come on,” she urged.
They returned to the shadows. Having regained his vantage point, Jack rubbed his battered head. “I must have practically gone out,” he murmured. “What happened to that Nazi?”
“Plenty!” said Mary. “But nothing he did not deserve. Besides, this is war, and war is—”
“No picnic.” Jack was himself again.
“How do you feel?” she asked.
He stood up, balanced himself for a moment, then went through the motions of skipping a rope.
“You’ll do.” She sprang to her feet. “We haven’t a moment to lose. Come on!”
Jack followed her over the steep, uncertain trail. Since she was barefoot, native style, her feet appeared to cling to the rocks. From time to time she gripped his hands to whisper, “This is a bad spot.”
And then they were on the level rock, racing for the plane.
“Are you sure?” Jack hesitated with his hand on the jet plane.
“Yes, sure!” she whispered. “He fell too far. Couldn’t possibly bother us now. I’ll send the natives to look him up later. But now, please hurry!”
She joined him in climbing to the plane’s top. While Jack dropped into the pilot’s place, she swung down into the gunner’s seat.
“Why!” she exclaimed in a whisper. “This is an American twinflex gun! I’ve fired them often!”
“Is it loaded?” Jack asked anxiously.
“Sure is.”
“That’s good. Keep a sharp lookout. Don’t shoot unless it is absolutely necessary.”
“Trust me!”
He did trust her, more than she knew.
After pulling down his canopy he switched on a pale light. “Just like my old scout plane,” he murmured.
As he studied the instruments and controls his amazement grew. At last he exclaimed in a hoarse whisper, “This is an American plane, every bit of it. The instruments even have the makers’ trade marks on them. How do you account for that?”
“I don’t,” said the girl.
Cautiously Jack tried out the controls. He set the motor whispering, that was all. He released the brakes. They glided forward three or four yards. He clamped on the brakes again.
As he tested the instruments Mary whispered:
“Someone’s coming down the trail. I heard a rock rolling down.”
“Good grief!” came back in a hoarse whisper. “The Japs! We may have to light out just as we are! I’m practically ready to give it a try!”
“Wait,” she whispered. “I haven’t said good-by to the natives. They’ve really been wonderful.”
“Yes, but—” Jack did not finish. That’s a woman for you! he thought.
“I will wipe out the Japs if I must.” She turned the machine gun noiselessly.
“That’s the thing to do.”
“Yes, but I must be sure first. It might be— There!” Her whisper rose. “I saw one of them duck into the shadows.”
“Let them come on out into the open so you can get all three. We can’t—”
He stopped short. From the foot of the rocky cliff had come the call of a parakeet where no parakeet should be.
“Thank goodness!” Jack exclaimed. “That’s Stew! Phew! What a close call!”
Pushing back his hood he answered the call. A moment later Stew was climbing to Jack’s side.
“What’s up?” he demanded. “What’s happened, anyway? I thought you’d been killed, and here—”
“You didn’t miss it by much,” Jack broke in. “Now you’re here, let’s forget the talking and get this jet plane into the air.”
“I’m staying here!” Mary declared.
“Oh! Must you?” Deep consternation was registered by Jack’s voice.
“I must.” Her voice was husky. “But not for long. I’ll come with Ted.”
“If he doesn’t beat you to the gun,” said Jack.
“He won’t do that,” Stew broke in. “He told me to hurry. He’s all set, but said he would wait unless he was driven off by the Japs.”
“Not much chance of that,” Mary laughed lightly. “The Jappies are being royally entertained by my friends, and after that—well, you fill in the picture.
“So long!” She was on the rock. “It’s nice having known you.”
“We’ll see you in the air and on the deck of the Black Bee.” Jack gave the ship the gun. The plane whistled. He released the brakes. She slid into the sea. Giving her another spurt, he felt her rise into the air.
“We’ve got plenty of fuel,” he said to Stew. “We’ll just circle a bit and see if we can pick up Ted and that girl.”
“That’s the best thing to do,” was Stew’s comment. “I’ll feel a lot easier if Ted hits the old Black Bee’s deck ahead of us.”
“And sort of prepare the gang for this freak,” said Jack. “Not a bad idea.”
CHAPTER XXV
JACK’S NEW GUNNER
In the meantime Ted was growing impatient. Having taxied his plane through the gap into the open sea, he had made a practice run and found her perfect. Then he had sent the plane gliding back into hiding.
But what had become of Jack and Mary, and now Stew? When he heard the wail of the jet plane he feared the worst. They had been killed or taken prisoner. Only the fact that six husky natives armed with powerful rifles were hidden away in the shadows beyond his small harbor kept him there.
Then suddenly he heard a loud “Yoo—hoo! Yoo—hoo! I’m here! Taxi over!” He recognized the voice. It was Mary.
When he slid in close to a flat rock he found her surrounded by a score of natives. She was embracing them and calling them pet names as if they were her brothers and sisters.
At last, grabbing up a battered overnight bag and Jack’s violin, she called out a native word that Ted thought must mean “good-by,” then made a flying leap for his left wing, which very nearly touched the rock.
From the rock came a roar of farewells. Then two bronze giants leaped into the water to push the plane away.
Ted set his motor roaring, slowed it to a crawl, then sent his fighter gliding out onto the moonlit sea.
A moment later, like wild birds separated for a time, two planes—one a fighter, the other a freak—came close to one another, then streaked away toward the western night skies.
Ted was in the lead. From time to time Jack banked this way and that, testing the jet plane. He went into a short spiral, then righted the plane to climb back into position.
“Boy!” he exclaimed. “This is the smoothest flying kite I ever hope to see!”
He wanted to tilt her nose and aim at the stars, to try out the plane in the stratosphere, but he could not be sure of the oxygen, and besides, he did not wish to lose contact with Ted. Ted had the chart showing the course the task force was taking. It would be easy to become lost on the vast Pacific, to run out of gas and fall into the sea. What a climax to an exciting adventure that would be!
The sky had cleared. The moon shone in all its glory. “No trouble finding the task force on such a night,” he said to Stew.
“None at all,” Stew agreed.
They zoomed along until Jack’s dial indicated that they had passed the halfway mark in their journey. Should overtake the Black Bee in another hour at the most, he thought.
Meanwhile in the plane ahead a transformation was taking place. The battered overnight bag that Mary had taken aboard contained all the small civilian articles she had possessed before leaving Corregidor—also her nurse’s uniform.
While Ted watched his instruments, consulted his chart, and thought of many things, her fingers had been busy. First, to be sure, she had performed quite an unfeminine duty—she had studied the swinging machine gun before her, making sure that it was properly loaded and that, if necessity demanded, she could do her full duty by it.
Then she had turned to lighter tasks. A bottle of dye-remover, which had been furnished her, came first. This made her white again. After this came face cream, a manicure set, and cosmetics.
When this was done, by worming and wriggling like a snake coming out of its skin, she succeeded in completing her transformation from a South Sea native to an Army Nurse. That the transformation was quite complete was proven by the “For Pete’s sake!” that exploded from Ted’s lips when at last, having solved all the problems of the universe, he turned to see if she were really there.
“Smile!” he commanded. She smiled.
“That’s swell. Thanks,” he exclaimed. “I just wanted to see if you were real.”
He was to know much more about that a few moments later.
“Listen! I think I hear the roar of a heavy plane!” Mary exclaimed suddenly.
Ted listened. The drone of his own motor was in his ears. He heard nothing else. “Guess you imagined that,” he said. “Strange things happen to you in the sky. There are mirages of sound as well as of sight.”
She made no reply. The steady drumming was still in her ears. She was tired. It had been a long, exciting day. She wondered vaguely what they would do with her when she got aboard the Black Bee, if she ever did. She hoped there was a tiny cabin where she could sleep forever and ever. Thinking of this, she nearly fell asleep when Ted exclaimed:
“Look at that! The light of the moon blinked out and there’s not a cloud in the sky!”
“But it’s on now!” she laughed.
“Yes, it came right back, but—”
“There!” she exclaimed. “It’s off again! No! Now it’s on—”
Ted did not answer. He was beginning to think he knew what was up. He hoped the moon would blink again. And he was not disappointed.
“Look at the moon! Quick!” He was all excited.
“It’s out!” she protested.
“Look closer! There’s a Jap snooper between us and the moon. Now it’s below the moon! Once you get it spotted, you can see it anywhere.”
“What’s a Jap snooper?” she asked.
“A big four-motored flying boat looking for a U. S. convoy.”
“Oh!” she breathed. “We have to get that one, don’t we?”
“I’ll say we do! Wonder if Jack’s radio works?” Then, “No matter. Don’t dare call him. We’ll get after that snooper alone.”
The girl’s hair seemed to rise and stand up like a fuzzy-wuzzy’s, but she was game. “Get them!” she hissed. She was thinking of the horrors of Corregidor and Bataan.
Giving his ship the gun, keeping an eye on the giant’s shadow, Ted began to climb. The big ship was slow. They gained rapidly. At just the right moment Ted came racing down upon the snooper. They were almost upon it when Ted let out a burst of murderous fire.
He shot past the big ship, swung back, felt his way until the snooper was again between him and the moon, then went straight at her. Again at very close range he pressed the firing button. But what was this? The gun fired a few shots, then jammed.
“Bum outfit—not my ship nor my gun,” he groaned.
All of a sudden, to his astonishment, he caught the rat—tat—tat of a gun behind him. It was Mary. They were passing beneath the enemy. She was firing the rear gun, straight up.
“Good girl!” he exclaimed. “Give it to them!”
Flashes of fire came from the enemy, but the shots went wild.
“We’ll swing about and meet them almost head on,” he said in a steady voice. “I’ll dip down just in time and you give them all you’ve got.”
“I—I’ll do my darndest.” She braced herself for the ordeal.
They very nearly missed going low enough. It seemed to Ted that they must have scraped the big boat’s keel, but Mary got in her good work.
And it was very good, for scarcely had they passed on to safety when there was a great flash and an explosion as the giant blew up.
“Good work! Great stuff!” sounded in Ted’s ears. Jack was speaking.
“Better keep radio silence,” was Ted’s answer.
All the while Ted and Mary were engaged in the fight, Jack and Stew had been standing by to come in if they were needed.
Stew had been all for stepping in at the very start, but Jack had ruled against it. “We don’t know our ship, our guns, or our instruments well enough to risk it,” was his verdict. “Besides, our capture of this secret plane may be of more importance than we think.”
“Not much help at the bottom of the sea,” Stew agreed.
The fight over, they got back into line, then zoomed on through the night.
Ted was astonished when at last, flying high, they sighted the white specks on the sea that would be their task force. And a greatly reinforced one it was.
“Three times as many fighting ships as we had before,” he said to Mary. “Three carriers and scores of cruisers and destroyers. This is it! We’re off to the big show!”
“This is it!” Stew was saying to Jack.
“Only part of it,” Jack replied. “We’ll pick up two other task forces. In all there will be hundreds of ships—more than you have seen in all your life!”
Even at that, Jack was thrilled to his fingertips at sight of this great battle armada. “We’ll be back on the deck of the Black Bee in just no time,” he said to Stew.
“With luck we shall,” Stew agreed. “But you’d better let the gang know that we’re coming in a freak plane that eats no gas and carries no propeller—or they’ll be shooting us up for wild game!”
“I’ll tell Ted to take the lead,” said Jack.
So, breaking radio silence, he said:
“Go on in ahead of us and tell them who we are, Ted.”
“Right. I hope they believe me!” Ted laughed into his mike.
“Make ’em a speech, boy! Make ’em a speech!” Jack urged. “And it better be good!”
Ted’s speech was a good one, at least good enough, for fifteen minutes later Jack and Stew set the jet plane down quite neatly on the Black Bee’s deck.
It would have been hard to tell which created the most excitement—Jack’s freak plane or Ted’s white girl, rescued after having spent two years on a wild cannibal island.
Mary dropped out of the competition rather soon, for the ship’s Commander carried her away to a late dinner such as she had not known for two long years. Then he instructed his orderly to attend to all her needs, and to stow her away at last in a small cabin behind the bridge, where she might sleep as long as she pleased.
Lieutenant Commander Donald Stone had been asleep when Jack came on board, but an hour later he came up to the flight deck. When he saw the jet plane he stared, rubbed his eyes, and then looked again.
“Jack! How did you get it? And where?” he demanded.
So, once more Jack told his story.
“It seems almost unbelievable!” said the Commander. “Before I was assigned to the Black Bee, I was sent to England to study an English plane that was an exact duplicate of this one!”
“But this is an all-American plane, sir,” said Jack. “The maker’s name is on each instrument.”
“That means we are considering going into production, or would be,” the Commander corrected, “if this plane had been shipped to us for a tryout. But now—h’m—what are we to make of it? You say the first men who flew it seemed to be British?”
“Yes, sir, and the last two were Nazis. They even had three Japs with them.”
“Well, anyway,” the Commander said, “we have the plane. What to do about it, that’s the question.”
“I’d like to fly her in the big push!” Jack leaned forward eagerly. “She’s a natural for scouting and bombing. No Zero could ever catch her. And in the stratosphere she’d bring you home faster than the wind.”
“Tired? Had a hard day?” the Commander demanded.
“Practically just rolled out of my berth, sir,” Jack grinned.
“Then we’ll try her out right now. Night’s the time for that. We’ll not be spotted.”
They did try the plane out. Jack went up alone at first with one pale light showing. The Commander, watching and listening on the deck, was sometimes on tiptoe and sometimes doing a jig as Jack put the screamer through its paces. An ardent enthusiast was the Commander.
“Boy! What a plane!” he exclaimed the moment Jack leaped from the cockpit. “What a kite! Have her gassed. I’ll go get my flying jacket and we’ll go up together!”
CHAPTER XXVI
JACK’S JET PLANE WINS ITS WAY
“I’ve used up all my kerosene, sir!” Jack declared in sudden consternation. “And I’m quite sure this jet plane won’t run on gas.”
“Oh, don’t let that worry you!” was the Commander’s instant reply. “You’ve been around this old flat-top long enough. You should know that we carry a greater variety of goods and supplies than you’d find in a department store. We service the entire task force.”
“Sure, I know. But kerosene—”
“We carry that for land operations. You can’t set up an electric light plant overnight—you have to go back to the lamp-and-lantern age. Besides, many of the small island crafts burn kerosene in their motors. We’ll have a drum up from below at once.”
“One thing I want to know,” said the Commander, “and that’s the range of this ship. I’ve heard they’re hard on fuel. We’ll have the boys rig up a belly tank on your jet plane. Then you and I will give the ship a good tryout together.”
“That’s okay with me, sir,” said Jack.
“It’s not just for fun, or to try out a new toy. I want to warn you,” said the Commander, “that if this jet plane has enough range she’ll be the first scout sent out over Mindanao. It’s going to be very important that we have accurate information regarding ships in the harbor. With this plane you should be able to get that information and come back alive.”
“It will be a great honor, sir!” Jack replied soberly.
When the belly tank had been rigged and the jet plane fueled, they took off.
“If I were sure of the oxygen equipment, sir,” said Jack as he set the jet plane climbing, “I’d take you to the stratosphere. There we’d really have distance aplenty.”
“That can wait,” was the answer. “Climb to five thousand, level off, then follow the course the task force has just covered. Our fighters are maintaining a night watch for snoopers, but if our fuel holds out we’ll cover a much greater distance than they.”
Jack followed instructions, then, having set the ship at an economical speed, settled back to think of many things—of the island they had left, of the three Japs, and of the German who had gone over the cliff. He could easily imagine what had happened to them. However, to guess how they had come into possession of this American-made jet plane was not so easy.
He thought of Mary Brown and Ted. Mary was a good-looking girl—with her island brown off and a touch of an American lady’s war paint on. He thought Ted had rather fallen for her. Had he done the same? There was Patsy. There was always Patsy back home.
“How’s your fuel, Jack?” the Commander asked.
“I’ll have a look, sir.” Jack studied his gauge. “Not bad,” he reported. “Under present conditions we should do eight hundred miles.”
“That’s all anyone can hope for. How do you account for this ship’s efficiency?” the Commander asked.
“Well, you see, sir, it’s my understanding that a new alloy has been developed that will withstand a very high temperature. Then the jets are deflected by setting them at right angles to the air stream. Of course,” he demurred, “I only learned a little—I read it in a scrapbook. All I really know is that this plane’s got speed and can carry enough fuel to take you places and permit you to do things,” Jack laughed happily. “That’s all I ask of any plane.”
“It’s all anyone can ask,” said the Commander. “But let me tell you one thing, son, if a cannon ball or even a slug from a machine gun ever penetrates the wall of the combustion chamber in this plane, with all that heat she’ll burn like a match!”
“It’s protected partially, at least, with steel plate, sir,” Jack replied soberly. “But why let the enemy get a crack at you when you’ve got a ship like this?”
“Why, indeed?” agreed the Commander. “All you have to do is turn on the oxygen and climb for the stars. You—”
The Commander broke off to listen intently. “Jack!” he said. “Shut off that squeal and drift down a bit.”
Jack silenced his engine. Then he heard it. The thunder of a powerful plane.
“A snooper!” he exclaimed.
“He’s up ahead some distance.” The Commander listened again. “Coming this way. That’s my judgment.”
“He’s a good two hundred and fifty miles from our task force, sir,” Jack suggested.
“Too close. Start your motor.”
Jack obeyed. “And now, sir?”
“Pick up speed. We’re going after that big Jap plane.”
“But, sir! You are a key figure! A hundred planes, hundreds of men operate at your direction! There’s time enough to get back and send out a patrol!”
“We’re taking no chances!” the Commander snapped. “No single man is too important. If I were unwilling to risk going with you in a flight of this nature, I should not be worthy of commanding a bomber, let alone all the planes of a carrier.”
“How’s this gun I have here?” he asked in a casual tone.
“It’s first-class, sir. The same type of gun we use in our own planes, and in top condition.”
“And your gun?” asked the Commander.
“There are two fifty-millimeter guns in fixed position. Having no propeller simplifies things, sir. I’ve never fought in this plane, sir, but I think we shall take them.”
“Even if we can’t shoot the beggars down,” the Commander laughed, “the wail of this plane should frighten them to death.”
After that they howled on through the night.
Twice Jack silenced his motor. Each time the rumble was louder.
“We’re on the right track,” was the Commander’s comment.
The third time, Jack said, “Very close, sir.”
“Above or beneath us?”
“Beneath, I believe, sir,” Jack answered.
“Good! We’ll run right above them. Then we’ll swing about and down, so we can get them in the light of the moon.”
Jack was following instructions and was, he thought, just about over the snooper, when a strange thing happened. A dim light shot squarely across his path.
“Did you see that, sir?” he exclaimed.
“See what?”
“A light! It crossed my path!”
“Strange!” was the answer.
Yes, Jack thought it strange. Instinctively he banked hard to follow the light, but already it was circling. “Coming back!” His heart skipped a beat. He felt for his gun grip.
Automatically charting the course of that mystery plane whose light had blinked out, Jack cut a slow circle. Suddenly, as his eyes caught a shadow, he let out a burst of fire from both guns, counted three, then fired again.
All of a sudden the sky was alight. The thing before him—a Zero, he believed—had blown up.
“Those snoopers carry fighter protection now, sir,” he said.
“How could they?” The Commander was amazed. Then, “Probably have a carrier not too far away. Maybe others. We must keep a sharp lookout. But we must have the big snooper all the same.”
“Yes, sir, we must.” Jack started jockeying for a position that would give him a picture of the snooper against the moon.
“There!” he murmured. “No, now!” And then again, “Now! There he is! I’ll climb up to give it to him in the tail, then I’ll bank sharply right. Perhaps you’ll get a whack at him, sir.”
He lost the big flying boat once more, then, suddenly, there they were, right upon the enemy.
Once again his twin guns roared. He banked sharply to catch the rattle of the Commander’s gun.
He caught something more. From behind came the rattle of a Zero’s weapon.
“Another fighter!” he groaned.
Putting his plane into a steep dive, Jack dropped a thousand feet—then swinging, started to climb.
“What luck! You’re just beneath him!” exclaimed the Commander. “Climb right on up and give me a whack at him as we pass.”
It would be a difficult shot. There was the danger too that the Zero pilot had a pal. But up they flew. And at just the right moment the Commander poured murderous fire into the enemy, who, for three seconds, had no chance of escape.
It was enough. He disappeared from sight, and to Jack’s nostrils came the stench of burning oil.
“You got him!” Jack breathed. “But the snooper?”
“There’s a bright spot over to the left,” said the Commander. “Might be a burning motor.”
It was a burning motor of the big Jap ship. It burned more and more until the whole plane burst into flames and white parachutes bloomed against the night sky.
“I think,” said the Commander, “that we should start back. There’s such a thing as going too far in this matter of testing out a plane’s cruising capacity.”
“As you say, sir.” Jack spoke calmly, but inside he was all pure joy. His jet plane had proved its worth.
CHAPTER XXVII
STRATOSPHERE TACTICS
“Do I fly this jet plane in the big show, sir?” Jack asked as he and the Commander stepped down on the Black Bee’s deck half an hour later.
“Not only that,” was the instant response, “but you’ll lead the parade.
“And now,” the Commander ordered, “hit the hay!”
Jack was too excited over past and future events to sleep long that night. He awoke with the dawn to find the sea blanketed in fog.
“Just what the doctor ordered,” he said to Stew. “We’ll be able to get through the day unobserved by the enemy. And tomorrow, unless I miss my guess, we strike at dawn.”
With coffee, hot cakes, and bacon stowed away, Jack made his way to the flight deck. There he obtained permission to take his jet plane below for study, inspection, and if need be, repairs.
He had plenty of help with this task. There wasn’t a flier or mechanic on the Black Bee who would not gladly have taken the jet plane apart piece by piece just to see what made it go.
The best mechanics on the carrier were assigned to the task of going over the plane. With an eagle eye Jack watched their every move. He made sure that the oxygen equipment was in perfect order and the tubes filled to capacity.
“You’re flying with me,” he said to Stew. “We’re to be the first scouts over the target. Those are the Commander’s orders. And we’ll go there in the stratosphere, fastest trip you ever made, if our jet plane holds together.”
“That’s Jake with me,” Stew grinned.
That was a busy day on the Black Bee. Every plane was inspected and given minor repairs. Fliers were given last day-before-the-battle instructions. Anti-aircraft crews went through dress rehearsals. Every man on the ship was on his toes and ready to go. No night before was ever like this.
That evening Jack hunted up Mary, who had joined the Medical Corps in the sick bay, and retrieved his violin.
To relieve his tension he went to the flight deck, tuned up his violin, and then walked slowly back and forth playing all the melodies he knew—while with every tune memories of other days came back.
Then he locked the violin safely in its case and wandered up for one more look at the jet plane before retiring for the night.
“Tomorrow,” he whispered.
Jack and Stew were up two hours before dawn. The hour that preceded dawn was their zero hour.
As they came down for their coffee they were surprised to find Ted and Mary waiting for them.
“We thought we’d like to be with you at the last meal before the big moment,” said Mary.
“That’s sure swell of you,” said Jack.
“You’d want to do that if we were the ones to go,” said Ted.
“That’s right,” Jack agreed. “We’ve been through a lot together, all of us. But Ted, what’s your assignment?”
“That’s just it.” Ted made a long face. “Our fighter squadron, Kentucky, Blackie, and the rest are to stick with the ship just in case we’re attacked. Tell you what.” Ted leaned forward. “When you get over that harbor just send word back that there isn’t a Jap carrier in sight and no bombers on the airfields.”
“Oh! Sure!” Jack grinned. “In fact, we’ll do better than that. We’ll just circle around over the sea, then make our report without even looking at that old Jap harbor.”
“Say! What is this? Mutiny?” Mary demanded.
“No.” Stew grinned. “It’s just a case of jolly good lying ‘just before the battle, mother.’”
“Don’t sell yourself short just yet,” Jack said to Ted. “You may see plenty of fighting before this day is over, yes, and find yourself in need of a ‘woman’s gentle nursing,’ as the old poem goes, before the sun sets.”
Zero hour came. The jet plane began its predawn song. Jack and Stew were off.
The fog was gone, and the moon bright. Jack was astonished as he climbed into the sky. As far as he could see there were white dots telling of ships plowing their way through the dark sea.
“More fighting ships than the world has ever seen in one place,” he said to Stew.
“Sure—carriers, probably a dozen of them; big battle wagons, cruisers, destroyers, cargo vessels, transports, oilers, tankers, repair ships, PT boats—everything. We’re going back to the Philippines, boy! And we’re going back to stay.”
After that they soared again. With oxygen masks in place they climbed to the substratosphere, then headed for Mindanao at incredible speed.
“Wonderful!” Jack breathed. “No Zero will ever catch up with us now.”