"What's that, Dave?" he heard Freddy Farmer's voice in the inter-com phones. "What are you mumbling about?"
"Mumbling?" Dawson snorted. "I was shouting with joy! I'm so excited that I can hardly keep from jumping overboard. And now that I think of it, maybe that would be a good idea!"
"Then go right ahead, old thing," the English youth in the rear pit chuckled. "Nothing I want more than for you to have your own way, you know."
"Don't look right now, but you can go fly a kite to the moon, pal!" Dawson growled. "I suppose you're enjoying this here-to-there hop in the sky?"
"Well, I have seen better piloting," Freddy came right back. "But, considering one thing and all, I'm not too fed up—yet. On the other hand, it is a bit boring. I mean—"
"You mean what?" Dave asked as Freddy let the rest hang in mid-air.
"Don't know just how to put it in words," young Farmer replied. "But—well, after that little talk with the colonel last night, I was quite steamed up, as you would say. Very mysterious, and exciting, and possibly dangerous, if you get what I mean."
"I do," Dawson grunted. "But all it is to me now is mysterious. You can have my share of the excitement and danger, if any. I'm just full of beans, though, I guess. After some of the close shaves you and I have had, routine stuff just gets me down, but quickly! But there have been two bright spots in this thing so far, thank goodness."
"Bright spots?" Freddy Farmer echoed. "Then I must have been looking the other way at the time. What do you mean?"
"At Miami and San Juan," Dawson replied. "The way those two commanding officers tried to pump us as to what the sealed envelopes contained. It was nice to look very wise and not tell them a darn thing. It was fun to see somebody else floundering around in the dark. Misery loves company. Say! Know what I hope, Freddy?"