"Such as?" Dawson prompted.
Freddy seemed to hesitate for a long time. Then he shrugged, and made a little gesture with his hands, palms upward.
"Blessed if I know, or can guess," he said. "However, I feel absolutely sure that all this business is taking place because something highly important is to be flown to North Africa."
"I don't think I agree with you there, Freddy," Dawson stated with a frown. "This is one of the Air Transport Command routes to North Africa, but if something special was to be flown across, the plane carrying it certainly wouldn't land at all these points. Heck, Freddy! Air Transport Command has lots of planes that could make the run down here to Trinidad non-stop, and hop from here to Natal the same way."
"Oh, quite," Freddy Farmer agreed, and waved his hand as though brushing aside the undisputed point. "Non-stop all the way to Natal, if you want to make an issue of it. However, the points in between are being given just as much attention. Presumably this is being done in the event of trouble and a forced landing; emergency fields, so to speak, all along the route the plane, or planes, will fly."
"Okay, okay, Master Mind!" Dawson laughed, and threw up his hands. "Maybe you've got something there. And if you have, it means that what we've been delivering, and what we just destroyed, are instructions in case your mysterious cavalcade of the air happens to sit down on one of the fields. Okay, that's that, then. Now all you have left to figure out is why this mysterious flight?"
Freddy Farmer nodded but made no reply. He sat watching the swiftly approaching shadows of night. Glancing at his face, Dawson saw that the English youth had something very absorbing on his mind. When young Farmer continued to maintain silence, Dawson's curiosity got the best of him.
"Okay, out with it," he said. "What's the heavy thought that's weighing down your brain at the moment?"
"A very definitely insane one," Freddy Farmer replied, with a little apologetic smile. "But taking it all and all, I'm blessed if I can think of anything better."
"Thanks," Dawson said sarcastically, and rolled over on his side. "That makes everything clear as mud. What do you want me to do—get up on my hind legs and beg?"