"Of course!" the English youth replied. "And am I stupid. Smart work, Dave. And by the way, thanks from the bottom of my heart, old thing."
Dawson glanced at him and blinked.
"For what?" he wanted to know.
Before answering, Freddy pointed a finger at the crash landing broken back of the aircraft.
"For not letting me go aft to the guns and take a crack at those Zeros," he said. "It was just as you warned. The thing broke right at the gun turret. But for you, Dave, I'd be in two or more pieces right now."
"Skip it," Dawson grunted, and got up onto his feet. "The thing for us to do is to make tracks away from here, before we both get carved up into small pieces. Now, let's see, which way, I wonder?"
"I suggest south, Dave," Freddy Farmer spoke up quietly. "I think that Zero field is in that direction. Fact is, while I've been here I think I've heard air engines toward the south. So?"
Dawson grinned at him, and winked.
"So we think alike, pal," he grunted. "We haven't got anything to fly now. And it's a long swim, and a long walk, to Chungking from here. Right, Freddy. The least we can do is take a look to see if the Japs can help us out any—without knowing it."
"Yes, it's a hope, though a blasted small one, I fancy," the English youth murmured. "First, though, there's this jungle. Dash it all! I never saw stuff grow so close together. Looks like it would take us days to go a mile."