"Anything missing, Dave?" he asked.
"Nothing, not even my money," Dawson replied with a note of grimness in his voice. "So that proves it. Proves it wasn't a stick-up and plain robbery. That we're both still alive and more or less kicking proves murder wasn't the big idea, either. They were after something that we didn't have any more. And—Sweet tripe, Freddy! That was over a couple of hours ago. Look at the time, will you?"
As Dawson spoke he thrust out his wrist watch. Ferry Farmer didn't glance at the radium-painted dial. He simply nodded.
"I know," he said. "I didn't enjoy our little nap at all. If you really do feel up to it, Dave, what say we get on along back, what? Major Parker may be wondering about us."
"Yeah," Dawson said, and stopped short. "Major Parker, Freddy?" he said after a long pause. "He knows that code of the colonel's. He delivered that message to us, but swears he read only the signature. And he is the only one, outside of those two Air Transport Command pilots, that we've spoken to here. But heck! I'm just plain nuts. It just couldn't be!"
"And I don't think it is, Dave," Freddy Farmer murmured. "I'd bet my life it wasn't Major Parker. He—Half a minute, Dave! Here comes somebody along the path! I can see two flashlights!"
"Me, too!" Dawson answered quickly. "I can—" He stopped as the silence of night was suddenly broken with a loud hail.
"Hello-o-o-o-o! Dawson and Farmer! Where are you? Hello-o-o-o! Dawson and Farmer-r-r-r!"
"That's Parker!" Dawson cried. "Out looking for us. Let's go, Freddy!"
Dawson took a couple of steps, then stopped and cupped his two hands to his mouth.