"Hold it, hold it!" Dave suddenly broke in excitedly. "You gave me the tip just now. Creeping up. That's it! Creeping up in small units until they get close enough to strike at some point in Wavell's defenses in a main body. Sure, sure, my imagination's beginning to work too! Small units that can camouflage themselves perfectly so as not to be seen by any of our planes that might pass over. And then when they're all close enough, and all set, the bombers and stuff can wing along the coast from Tripoli and take their part in the attack. Gosh, Freddy, I'll bet that you've hit the old nail right smack on the head. We've stumbled onto the hottest thing in Libya. And I don't mean the sun or the sand, either!"
"I'm sure of it!" Freddy said, and beamed happily. "And here's something else. The small units move only during the night. And before dawn they dig in and camouflage themselves so they won't be seen during the day."
"Yeah, like a tribe of Indians sneaking up on a frontier village in the old days back in the States," Dave breathed. "And—"
"Dave, that's exactly the idea!" Freddy suddenly cried, and gripped him by the arm. "Take a good look, now! I see things moving over there. Am I right, or are my eyes just going haywire?"
The setting sun was now quite low, and the long shafts of orange gold light that stretched across the desert made it extremely difficult to distinguish individual objects, or even movement, at any distance over a mile. The rays of the setting sun cutting through the shimmering waves of heat rising up off the hot sand made everything seem to blend into one huge picture of shadows and various shades of color. After a few moments of intense scrutiny, however, Dave was ready to agree with Freddy's belief. Unquestionably things were moving over there. Many things, in fact, and of all shapes and sizes. He continued to stare hard, and then suddenly the faint echo of engines coming to life drifted down the desert wind. He felt, rather than saw, Freddy stiffen at his side. And a moment later the English youth's excited voice came to his ears.
"Dave! Dave, do you hear that? Those are tank engines, and armored car engines! See? They're starting to take off the camouflage coverings. They're getting ready to move, Dave, just as soon as it gets dark."
"Right!" Dave echoed. "And that means us. We're going to get on the move, too."
"What do you mean?" Freddy asked without turning his head.
"We're going to get close for a good look," Dave replied, and rose up onto his hands and knees. "I don't think they'll pull out until it's actually dark. By then we can sneak up close to them and see what's what. You know, Freddy, I've a hunch there are the answers to a lot of questions over there. And if we get up close enough, maybe we can find out a few of those answers. Anyway, we can't stick here forever."
"No, of course we can't," the English youth agreed, and got up onto his feet. "Our bad luck seems to have turned into good luck, so we'd better make the most of it. Come on. Wait, let's see."