Darkness was falling as the carrier Black Bee, escorted by cruisers and destroyers, sailed away from the scene of her latest triumph, her attack on the unnamed island that meant so much to the Allied cause on its way to Tokyo. Not one U. S. ship had been sunk or damaged. Jap installations had been smashed and the airfield taken. The Marines had stormed ashore in great waves, accomplishing the occupation of a greater part of the island with a minimum of loss.

“It was a great day!” Kentucky murmured as he sat with his fighter pals on the flight deck.

“Yes, a big day,” Blackie echoed.

The elevator trap opened and from below came the sounds of voices and music. Men were singing and radios blared popular music or announced more victories.

The elevator rose. It carried a new fighter to the flight deck.
135

“That’s for Ted or Jean,” Kentucky rumbled, “if one of them comes back.”

“Yes, if only one of them does come back,” Red agreed soberly.

It had been a truly great day. The men below decks were happy and hilarious. But the trio on the flight deck, Kentucky, Blackie and Red, were for the most part silent. Ted was gone. No one knew when he would be seen again, if ever.

Jean, too, was gone. He had somehow been lost from his formation. Kentucky had heard him say, “I am being attacked by a superior force. Notify my nearest of kin.”

Had Jean been joking? There was no way to know. Men did joke in the midst of battle. That was the one way of keeping your nerves steady.

Kentucky did not believe that Jean had been joking. He had scant hope of ever seeing him again.

But Ted—that was different. Kentucky believed that Ted had made a safe landing on the water.

“The course we are taking,” he said soberly, “should bring us in about two hours over the spot where Ted went down. I’m going to ask for permission to make a search.”

“At night?” Blackie voiced his astonishment.
136

“Sure! Why not?” Kentucky’s tone was confident. “Ted’s smart. He’ll know the sound of our planes and he’ll find something to use as a flare. If he’s there and I get near the spot, I’ll bring him in.”

“I’m with you,” said Red.

“Count me in.” Blackie made it three.

Darkness came down like a black curtain. Through this curtain the task force plowed on. “What’s our destination?” was the question passed from man to man. Mindanao was often mentioned, but only one man—the Commander—knew what lay ahead, and he wasn’t telling.

On being told of Jack’s discoveries—the book that gave him so much information about the jet plane, the note of warning attached to a tree, and the native girl who paraded in an Army nurse’s uniform—Stew found himself torn between two desires: one to fit out the Jap raft and leave the island immediately; the other, to remain to help Jack try to commandeer the jet plane and fly away.

“Must be a marvelous new invention,” he commented excitedly. “Think of doing the stratosphere at 500!”

“And then dropping down upon some unsuspecting Japs!” Jack added.

In the end Stew decided that it would be wise to put the Jap raft into condition for immediate escape, if flight became necessary.
137

“Who knows what might happen?” he argued. “If those men speak German, they could easily be Nazis, and they may bring in a whole boatload of Japs to hunt us down.”

Jack was not so sure of all this. Those men in charge of the jet plane had been friendly enough and did not seem like Nazis. Nevertheless he did realize that it was best to be prepared for any emergency. So, after a rather cheerless breakfast of cold fish and coffee, they spent the morning putting the raft in order.

When they returned at lunchtime, they found that the bananas had not yet begun to ripen, so they lunched on chocolate bars.

“But just you wait!” Stew exclaimed. “I’m going to have a real dinner tonight, if I have to run down a wild pig.”

“Okay,” Jack agreed. “I’ll gladly join you. In fact, I’ll even roast the pig. But you’d better take the fishline with you. There are worse meals than fish.”

“Oh, fish!” Stew snorted. “Just you wait and see!” However, he did take the fishline as they climbed up the slope for one more look at their island home.

“I’ll charm one of those wild roosters into sitting on my knee,” Jack laughed, as he tucked the violin under his arm.
138

“Or some wild maiden,” Stew joked.

“None of that!” Jack replied, soberly.

Stew paused half way up the ridge to examine some fresh wild pig tracks, but Jack kept straight on, until he reached the crest of the ridge. There, seated on the highest pinnacle of rock, he surveyed the scene, and was enchanted.

Save for a few white clouds, the day was clear. On the dark, blue water there was a slight ripple that made it seem alive.

Off to the right and lower down he suddenly discovered the small native village, a few tiny grass huts clustered about a larger one. As he watched, two long, slender canoes with outriggers shot from the shore. He looked at them through his binoculars and discovered that one was manned by two native boys, the other ............