Dawson didn't answer. Reaction brought him up onto his feet fast, and had him reaching for the small automatic he always carried in his tunic pocket. He almost had it out before Freddy Farmer grabbed his arm.
"Years late, old thing," the English youth said quietly. "The dirty beggar is stone dead. Almost got the general, though. You sure you're all right, General?"
"As good as could be expected!" a voice growled close by in the darkness. "Felt the wind of his bullet, though. Confound it! What goes on here, anyway? That would-be killer was one of the Jap farmers from one of the other islands. How the devil did he get over here? And why in thunder was he trying to kill us off?"
Freddy didn't offer an answer, and neither did Dawson. Instead, Dawson walked up out of the ditch, and across the road to where General Stickney, flashlight and gun in hand, was bending over the crumpled and motionless figure of a Hawaiianized Japanese farmer. And three tiny blue holes in his forehead were silent and perfect tribute to Freddy Farmer's deadly marksmanship. Dawson took a good look, was conscious of the slight burning sensation at the top of his left shoulder, and shivered unconsciously.
"Pick out your prize, pal," he grunted at Freddy, as the English youth joined him. "The best is none too good for that kind of shooting. Me, I sure was asleep at the switch."
"Well, it had to be done, so I did it, that's all," Freddy grunted. "A nasty-looking beggar, isn't he, what? Very glad he's dead."
"Well, I've got to look into this right away!" General Stickney snapped. "The man must have gone mad, and escaped, and was running amuck. Darn good shooting, Farmer. Thank God, you got him in time. But why in thunder he came after us—?"
The senior officer finished the rest with just unintelligible sounds in his throat.
"We can walk the rest of the way," he said. "It isn't far to Air Forces H.Q. I'll leave you there, and get right on with this confounded business."
Dawson and Farmer simply nodded, and said nothing as they dropped into step. Perhaps it was all a cockeyed mystery to General Stickney, but it was the handwriting on the wall to them. The confirmation of Colonel Welsh's message, and warning to be on the alert. How that Jap killer had received his orders, and who had given them to him, were two little items that even history would never reveal. But the hows, and the whys didn't matter. The hand of death had reached halfway around the world to get them both by the throat. And only Freddy Farmer's lightning-like action, and perhaps too hasty a trigger finger on the killer's part, had prevented it. But out of the darkness of night the enemy had struck again. Struck to wipe them out, and gain possession of that precious document Chungking-bound.