CHAPTER ELEVEN
Midnight Raider
"What?" Colonel Welsh exploded as he looked from Dawson to Farmer, and back again. "What's this?"
"Farmer, sir," Dave explained. "We made about six million guesses apiece as to what this was all about. One of his was that the President was going to North Africa, or beyond, for a conference with Prime Minister Churchill and Stalin."
"Nobody heard you make that guess, did they?" the colonel asked, tight-lipped, as he fixed his eyes on young Farmer.
"No, sir!" the English youth replied. "Nobody."
"He's right, sir," Dawson spoke up quickly. "I remember when he made that guess he spoke so low I could hardly hear him, and I was lying right next to him. In case you're wondering, Colonel, it wasn't until we were on our way back to the base that Colonel Baron von Steuben slugged us. So it's certain he didn't hear Freddy."
"Yes, of course you're right," the colonel said, and smiled at Farmer. "So don't feel bad. It just gave me a start that you had hit the nail on the head. You were partly wrong, though. Joseph Stalin will not be among those present this time."
"And those envelopes, sir?" Dawson asked when the colonel fell silent and stared out the compartment window at the darkness of night sweeping by. "They are still very hush-hush stuff, as far as we're concerned? Could I ask if they contained information about the President's trip?"