"Thank God!" the English youth sobbed. "Good grief, Dave, I thought you were a goner for sure!"
"What—what happened?" Dave mumbled, and the effort to speak made his throat burn. "What happened? Did we crash—or something? Bail out—and forget to pull the rip-cord, huh?"
"That blasted Jap!" Freddy Farmer grated. "He slipped, and you went crashing down on the deck on your head. Man! I was sure you had been killed right then and there!"
Dawson blinked hard, put his finger tips to his temples and pressed as though he could push away the fog that clouded his brain.
"Jap?" he muttered thickly. "I fell on my head? What Jap, Freddy? What are you talking about? I haven't got a head. I've got two of them. Split right down the middle. And—Hey! What gives? What's this place? Where the heck are we? What in thunder has happened, Freddy?"
Freddy Farmer didn't answer, because he wasn't there. He had moved away somewhere. But he returned almost immediately and held a glass of water to Dawson's lips. The Yank ace drank greedily, and the cold water did wonders for the burning in his throat. It also helped to drive the fog from his brain, and give him more strength in both mind and body.
"Thanks, pal!" he gasped when he had drained the glass of its last drop. "You're a lifesaver, what I mean, kid. Thanks, plenty. Now, what in the world has happened?"
But even before Freddy Farmer could form the words with his lips, a little door in Dawson's brain seemed to pop open and vivid memory came rushing back to him.
"My gosh, I catch!" he cried. "We had been trussed up by those Japs, and they were carrying us up onto the deck of that U-boat! That Jap rat officer was going to fly us to the Suicide Sasebo's flagship. What happened? Did the dirty bums change their minds? And hey! We're not aboard any U-boat now! Or are we?"
"If you'll only shut up!" Freddy Farmer barked, but there was great joy glistening in his eyes. "Just keep that mouth of yours shut tight, and I'll tell you as much of it as I can."