Dave Dawson at Casablanca

BOOKS BY R. SIDNEY BOWEN Dave Dawson at Dunkirk Dave Dawson with the R. A. F. Dave Dawson in Libya Dave Dawson on Convoy Patrol Dave Dawson at Singapore Dave Dawson with the Pacific Fleet Dave Dawson with the Air Corps Dave Dawson on the Russian Front Dave Dawson Flight Lieutenant Dave Dawson with the Commandos Dave Dawson with the Flying Tigers Dave Dawson on Guadalcanal

The four-faced clock over the information booth on the Upper Level of the Grand Central Station in New York City showed exactly twenty-five minutes after three. Dave Dawson paused in his restless pacing up and down to look at it for the hundredth time in the last half hour. He glared at it, sighed heavily, and made noises deep in his throat.
Where is that Freddy Farmer guy, anyway? he grated to himself. For half an hour I've been pounding shoe leather here waiting for him. Darned if he isn't worse than a woman, not being at a place on time. But he's probably lost. And if he is, he can stay lost for all I care.
With a sharp nod for emphasis, he walked over to the newsstand and bought a bar of candy. The Union News lad back of the counter glanced at the row of decoration ribbons under Dawson's wings, and gave him a smile and the kind of look that said he'd like to hear about some of Dawson's experiences. Dave ignored the look, however, and turned away. He didn't want to talk about the war. In fact, he didn't even want to think about it. Freddy and he were enjoying a much-deserved leave, and they still had four days to go. And until those four days had come and gone, the war could be on another world as far as he was concerned. Right! The heck with it for four more days!
For the hundred-and-first time Dawson looked at the information-booth clock. The hands said twenty-seven minutes of four now, and Dave made noises in his throat once again. He pulled two hockey-game tickets out of his tunic pocket and looked at them.
For two cents I'd leave him flat and get somebody else to go with me! he muttered. I should have drawn the bum a map so he could use it to get over here from Times Square. He—