"Why?" Freddy demanded.
"I'm going to toss it," Dawson said. "Heads we go to the right, tails we go to the left."
"But what about straight ahead?" Farmer asked.
"I've had enough of going straight ahead on this street!" Dawson growled. "For all you know it may go right off the edge of a cliff. But okay. If the shilling lands edge up we go straight ahead. Flash your beam on the sidewalk, Freddy."
Young Farmer did that. Dawson flipped the coin, which made a tinkling sound as it hit the sidewalk and bounced around. Finally it came to rest with the King's head showing.
"We turn right," Dawson grunted, and picked up the shilling. "And I'll just keep this as a little souvenir of the night's travels. Of all the—!"
"I'm sorry, Dave, blast it all!" Freddy Farmer groaned. "I guess the London streets aren't what they used to be."
"In more ways than one, pal!" Dave murmured. "But dry your tears, little fellow. It's okay. Maybe we'll bump into a taxi at the next corner, or one of your London Bobbies who can give us a bearing and put us on the beam."
If the two air aces had turned left at that cross street they would have met a patrolling Bobbie within the next two hundred yards. But they turned right, and in so doing walked straight into the beginning of their greatest battle with Death, and Satan's forces of evil and ruthless destruction!