Dave Dawson at Casablanca Part 10

An icy chill swept through Dawson, and he swallowed hard. It was a second or two before he could speak.

"Those sealed envelopes, I bet!" he whispered. "We got rid of them just in time. But, my gosh, Freddy! Who--"

Dawson let the thought go unspoken because it seemed so utterly incredible.

"Yes, who?" Freddy Farmer echoed, and gave a little shrug of his shoulders. "Somebody, that's certain. Gosh, he came close to killing us.

When I came to and saw you with your ripped tunic pulled up over your head and your face pushed down into the dirt, I thought sure you were a goner. Look, Dave, take off your helmet, if it doesn't hurt too much. I want to see if it's more than just a b.u.mp. If your scalp's been cut, I can patch it from this pocket Red Cross kit I carry."

But Dawson had already explored under his helmet with very gentle fingertips. He had two b.u.mps side by side, not over an inch above a point where two such blows would undoubtedly have paralyzed him for life, if not killed him instantly. As it was, there were just the two b.u.mps and no wet or caked blood.

"Just b.u.mps, Freddy," he said, and forced a chuckle. "A couple of pips, but you know me, Old Iron Head. How about you, though?"

"I'm lucky," Freddy said, and tried to match Dawson's forced gaiety.

"Just one lump, but I'm sure the old noggin will ache for months. We'd better bear this in mind, Dave. We can't stand another of these attacks."

"Says which?" Dawson mumbled.

"We couldn't possibly be that lucky twice," the English youth explained.

"Blast this whole business, though! I don't like things I don't understand. I definitely don't!"

Dave Dawson didn't make any comment on that. He got slowly to his feet, steeled himself while a dizziness swept through his head, and then began a methodical search of his uniform pockets. Watching him, Freddy Farmer waited until he had inspected their contents and had put them back.

"Anything missing, Dave?" he asked.

"Nothing, not even my money," Dawson replied with a note of grimness in his voice. "So that proves it. Proves it wasn't a stick-up and plain robbery. That we're both still alive and more or less kicking proves murder wasn't the big idea, either. They were after something that we didn't have any more. And--Sweet tripe, Freddy! That was over a couple of hours ago. Look at the time, will you?"

As Dawson spoke he thrust out his wrist watch. Ferry Farmer didn't glance at the radium-painted dial. He simply nodded.

"I know," he said. "I didn't enjoy our little nap at all. If you really do feel up to it, Dave, what say we get on along back, what? Major Parker may be wondering about us."

"Yeah," Dawson said, and stopped short. "Major Parker, Freddy?" he said after a long pause. "He knows that code of the colonel's. He delivered that message to us, but swears he read only the signature. And he is the only one, outside of those two Air Transport Command pilots, that we've spoken to here. But heck! I'm just plain nuts. It just couldn't be!"

"And I don't think it is, Dave," Freddy Farmer murmured. "I'd bet my life it wasn't Major Parker. He--Half a minute, Dave! Here comes somebody along the path! I can see two flashlights!"

"Me, too!" Dawson answered quickly. "I can--" He stopped as the silence of night was suddenly broken with a loud hail.

"h.e.l.lo-o-o-o-o! Dawson and Farmer! Where are you? h.e.l.lo-o-o-o! Dawson and Farmer-r-r-r!"

"That's Parker!" Dawson cried. "Out looking for us. Let's go, Freddy!"

Dawson took a couple of steps, then stopped and cupped his two hands to his mouth.

"h.e.l.lo-o-o there, Major!" he bellowed. "We're coming!"

As his call died away, he could tell by the movement of the beams of light far back along the path that whoever held the flashlights was coming on the run. He and Freddy walked toward the approaching lights, and after a couple of minutes one of them was playing over him at close quarters. Major Parker's dumbfounded comments were splitting the night air.

"Good grief, what happened to you two? I waited mess for you, but when you didn't show up I got worried for fear you'd got lost. Somebody said they saw you heading up this path, so we came after you. Good grief!

What happened? Are you badly hurt?"

By "we," Major Parker meant himself and one of the field pilots, who was carrying the other flashlight. On impulse Dawson gave the man, whose name was Tracey, a searching look, but he saw only bewildered amazement and sympathy in the sun-and-wind bronzed face.

"We don't exactly know, sir," Dawson answered the major. "We were heading back to the base when suddenly the lights went out. Somebody jumped us from the sugar cane. When we woke up, we were as you see us, but nothing was missing."

"Nothing?" Major Parker asked sharply.

"Not a darn thing, sir!" Dawson replied truthfully. "I don't get it.

And I don't like it, either. Thanks, though, for coming after us."

Major Parker dismissed the last with a wave of his hand, and opened his mouth as though to say something important. He seemed to change his mind as he shot a quick glance at Tracey, because he gave a little shrug and remarked, "Well, standing around here isn't helping anything. I'd better get you two back so you can clean up. We've got some spare uniforms, and it won't be hard to find your fit. Slugged, and not a thing missing, huh? Well, that's a new one on me. Okay, let's get back--if you two really aren't hurt badly?"

"Just a b.u.mp or two, sir," Dawson a.s.sured him. "Nothing to write home about, at all."

"Quite," Freddy Farmer murmured. "Received worse than this in a crash or two. We're quite all right, sir."

Major Parker paused, scowled, and shot them both a keen, searching look.

He said nothing, though; he just shrugged, turned around, and started leading the way back along the path that skirted the sugar cane plantation.

CHAPTER NINE

_Death Strikes_

Brows furrowed in deep thought, Major Parker slowly packed tobacco into his pipe, put the stem between his teeth, and struck a match. As he applied the flame to the bowl, he raised his eyes and watched Dave Dawson and Freddy Farmer putting away their second meal as his guests.

This time, however, it was not in the Officers' Mess. The trio were in the major's own quarters, and Dawson and Farmer looked none the worse for their recent experience. Uniforms that fitted them perfectly had been found, and it had been a matter of a couple of minutes to transfer their insignia and incidentals from their torn and dirt-smeared uniforms. As a matter of fact, anybody stepping inside the major's quarters at the moment wouldn't have thought anything amiss. That is, unless he noticed the fixed scowl on the major's face.

The major kept scowling until Dave and Freddy had fully satisfied their craving stomachs. Then he poured coffee for the three of them and offered cream and sugar. That done, he slipped a hand into his tunic pocket, pulled out his copper disc and tossed it on the table.

"What else do I have to do to convince you two?" he asked quietly.

Dawson lowered his coffee cup and looked at the major in mild surprise.

"What's that, sir?" he asked.

Major Parker jabbed his pipe stem at the copper disc.

"That," he said, "is the only identification I can produce until Colonel Welsh arrives at midnight. That isn't far off, of course, but you two ran into some trouble tonight. Bad trouble, I'd say, and--Well, I'm supposed to be in charge down here, which automatically makes me responsible for your safety. I fell down on the job, it seems. In other words, I'd like all the details so that I can start the wheels turning to round up this mysterious trouble-maker."

Dawson smiled, gave a little twist of his head, and gestured with one hand.

"That's just the trouble, sir," he said pleasantly. "There aren't any details, except the unpleasant ones that we've already told you. We were heading back here when we were suddenly jumped and knocked cold. Whoever did the job tore our uniforms to ribbons searching us."

"And what do you suppose he was searching for?" Major Parker asked shrewdly.

"I don't know, sir," Dawson said quietly, and looked straight at him.

"Whatever it was, he didn't find it, because neither of us lost a single thing."