"Why do I waste breath on dumb bunnies!" Dawson sighed. "Well, anyway, I figure the picture this way. Hitler got England's front door slammed hard on his fingers when he tried to push it open last year. In Russia the Jerries are right now receiving the biggest surprise of this war. They're getting the pants shot off them just when they thought they were going to have breakfast, lunch, and dinner in the Kremlin, in Moscow. And in Libya the Wops and the Jerries are setting all kinds of new Olympic distance records trying to get away from our boys out there. So, what's left? The Far East. That means Japan. I've a hunch that the Japs are only waiting for the right moment to jump. Sure, I may be all wet, and the Japs may stay in their holes. But, I've got the hunch that they won't. So.... Hey! What am I doing all this talking for, anyway!"
"The old American custom of letting off steam, I fancy," Freddy Farmer said with a chuckle. "However, I'd not be too surprised if you were right. The blasted Japs are...."
The English youth cut himself off short as a young pink cheeked naval lieutenant came up to them and saluted smartly.
"Captain Standers' compliments," he said. "He wishes to see you in his quarters at once."
Both Dawson and Farmer nodded, then looked questioningly at each other as the junior naval rating did a snappy about face and walked away.
"The Old Man wants us?" Freddy murmured. "What for, I wonder?"
"Search me," Dawson said with a shrug. Then with a quick side glance at his pal, "Unless it's for the usual thing."
"Usual thing?" Freddy Farmer echoed sharply. "Just what do you mean?"
Dawson jerked his head at the swiftly approaching shoreline.
"We're getting close to port, and will be going ashore soon," he said. "I suppose the Skipper wants to lay down the law to you, as usual. And get me to promise to keep an eye on you ... as usual. Well, there's one way to find out. That's to go see him. Come along, my little man."