“The third?” he echoed in amazement. “Well, that shows that the third time isn’t a sure thing, as the saying goes. And as regards there being a fourth time here at Brownsville—”
The Base Commandant paused. A thin smile touched his lips, but his eyes were as hard and cold as chiseled ice.
“Then they’ll get me, too,” he said presently, “whoever they are, because I’m not going to leave you two for an instant until you’re off the ground and in the air, and on your way north.”
“Thanks for the protection, sir,” Dave said with a short laugh. “But I don’t look for, or expect any trouble here. I think our rat friends were counting on that bomber fire being a sure thing.”
“Quite.” Freddy Farmer nodded for emphasis. “Good grief, how close it came to being just that! Every time I see a flare locker after this I’m sure I’ll break out in a sweat. But I agree with Dave, sir. I don’t think we’ll have any trouble here. I certainly hope not.”
The Base Commandant chuckled and made a little gesture.
“Well, it’s been pretty dead around here,” he said almost wistfully. “I think we could do with a little excitement, provided, of course, that nobody on our side gets hurt. But just the same, I’m going to stick close to you two. How about a look around the field as a starter? We’ve got some pretty interesting stuff here.”
“I’d like that very much, sir,” Dave said eagerly. “I saw that you have quite a few of the new types.”
“Yes,” Freddy echoed, his face brightening. “I’d jolly well like to look around a bit.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” Colonel Bates grinned, and got to his feet. “Let’s go!”