Dawson leaned forward slightly and stared in the direction of Freddy's pointing finger. A couple of seconds later he saw the unmistakable flashing of a light. Because of the Flying Fortress's altitude it was no more than a pin-prick of light. But it was very real just the same.
"Yes, I catch," he finally grunted. "Probably one of our ships requesting us to flash our identification signal. The heck with them. They should know that no Jap plane could possibly be in this neck of the woods."
"But what if they open fire, if they have flak guns aboard?" Freddy murmured as they both continued to watch the blinking light far below. "There's such a thing as a lucky hit, even at our altitude."
"Okay, if you insist, pal," Dave grunted, and started to reach out his hand. "But ... Hey! Did you catch that, Freddy? That looked like the old SOS to me."
"It was!" young Farmer replied with a nod, and hunched forward a bit more on his co-pilot seat. "Wait a minute! He's trying to send something else. K ... D ... J? K, D, J? Wonder what that means?"
"Take a look in that signal book in the pocket beside you," Dawson said. "I think those things have surface ship signals as well as aircraft signals. Take a look anyway."
It didn't take young Farmer more than a few seconds to find what he was hunting for. Excitement rang in his voice as he spoke to Dawson.
"Here it is, Dave!", he cried. "K, D, J. Attacked by enemy force! Please give assistance."
"Attacked by enemy force?" Dawson echoed sharply, and squinted hard down at the still blinking pin-point of light. "Must be some ship nailed by a Jap submarine. Maybe we'd better slide down for a look. At least that should scare the Jap sub away, if there's one still lurking around. A Jap submarine east of Pearl Harbor? Well, what do you know? Get back at the port gun slot, Freddy, just in case we get the chance to take a crack at something. And I think I'll drop a flare so's we can get a good look."
"No, don't, Dave!" young Farmer said sharply, and gripped his arm as though to restrain him.