"And I jolly well hope it will be soon!" Freddy echoed. "And that reminds me. I certainly wish I knew what Air Vice-Marshal Saunders wants of us!"
Dave groaned and slid down on the seat.
"My pal!" he sighed unhappily. "Just when I was all nice and relaxed, you'd have to go and bring that up!"
CHAPTER FOUR
Nazi Wings Over London
Dave gave the bell-hop a shilling and waited for the boy to step out into the hall and close the door. Then he took three running steps, jumped, and landed flat on his back on the bed. The springs squeaked in protest but didn't give way. Dave flung out his arms and sighed loudly.
"Boy, a real bed!" he exclaimed. "Look, Freddy, this is a bed. Springs, mattress, sheets, blankets, and everything. And it's all mine until tomorrow. Of course those things we have out at the squadron aren't too tough. But this! This is a real bed. Turn out that light, pal. I'm practically asleep right now. Gosh! That train took a million years, didn't it?"
Freddy didn't reply at once. He slung his suitcase onto the other bed, then came over and grabbed Dave by the feet. A good yank and Dave was on the floor.
"You're not using that bed, yet," Freddy grinned down into his startled face. "There's plenty of time for your beauty sleep. First we're going out to have a look at the black-out."