"I hope you're right," Freddy said in an uncertain voice, as his clear blue eyes clouded with doubt. "There! He's down on the ground, now, and braking to a stop."
"That sure is a sweet looking ship!" Dave breathed softly. "An Arado AR-95, huh? Oh, sure, now I remember seeing pictures of that design. It has a B.M.W. radial engine. (Bavarian Motor Works). The Germans used it a lot in training their pilots. It's not so fast as the other war planes, and it's a cinch to fly, they say. Freddy!"
Dave almost shouted the name, and his fingers still gripping the English youth's arm bit deep into the flesh.
"Ouch, my arm!" Freddy protested, "What's the matter, Dave? What's up?"
Dave didn't reply. He watched the German plane come to a stop. The pilot and observer jumped down onto the ground and walked toward the group of Germans advancing from the farm house. They met and appeared to talk for a moment or two. Then all of them turned and went back to the farm house. When they passed inside Dave took a quick look over at the Arado with its prop ticking over, then swung around to face Freddy.
"Maybe that solves our problem, Freddy!" he said in a strained whisper. "That plane!"
"The plane?" Freddy echoed with a frown. "What about it? Good grief, you surely don't mean...."
"Why not?" Dave countered. "I made my first solo on a better ship than that. I'll bet you anything you like I can handle it. What do you say, Freddy?"
The English youth gulped and looked most undecided. Dave took the moment of silence to press home his point.
"It's the best bet we could possibly have!" he argued. "Gee, in that ship we could be behind the Allied defenses in no time. I say let's try it, anyway. Gee whiz, Freddy, we might be stuck here for months. There's no telling what we might run into. What do you say? Are you game to try it with me?"