“Eh, what?” Freddy grunted.
“What I said,” Dave replied. “Take a gander at those map charts back there. Then come around front, here, and beg me to let you remain in the classroom.”
“Rot!” Freddy muttered. “You’re talking crazy rubbish, and I fancy—”
The English youth’s voice trailed off, and it became obvious that he was studying his map charts of the Canal and surrounding area. Dave took a quick look back to make sure, then turned front and waited for the explosion. It came at the end of perhaps twenty-five seconds.
“Good grief!” the words burst forth from the English youth’s lips. “Why—why, I always thought—!”
“You, and a few million other people!” Dave said with a laugh as Freddy stumbled. “The Panama Canal does not run from east to west. It’s from west to east. Or if you want to get technical about it, the Canal runs from the northwest to the southeast. It’s the cockeyed bend in the Republic of Panama that makes it that way. Remember that little item, Freddy. It may help you to be the life of the party some day.”
“Thank you, no!” the English youth grunted. “But that certainly is amazing! I mean, it’s certainly something new I’ve learned.”
“Stick around,” Dave chuckled. “I’ll get you educated, if it kills me. But pass over one of those charts, will you? One you’re not using. I want to have a look at it myself.”
Freddy Farmer did as he was asked. Dave took the chart tacked to the board, rested it against the top of the joy stick and began to study it. Perhaps two minutes later a white light seemed to explode in his head. He let out a wild yell, lurched in the seat, and unconsciously sent the Vultee nosing down into a crazy power dive. Freddy Farmer’s voice in his ears was a scream.
“Dave, good grief! What’s happened? Are you all right? What’s the matter?”