Dave Dawson at Casablanca Part 8

"Yes," Dawson said, and handed back the copper disc with a grin. "But you sure had my heart fluttering for a moment there."

"Frankly, I was just about to reach for my service automatic," Freddy Farmer added.

"Well, forgive me my rather flat little joke, and let's skip it, eh?"

Major Parker said with a little wave of his hand. "I noticed that Tiger stuff gave you a little start, so I thought I'd kid a bit. Maybe that's what this darn sun down here does to a fellow. To be serious though--and out of order, I guess--anything in Tiger's message that I should know?"

"Just what we told you," Dave replied pleasantly. "Our survey job is held up until Colonel Welsh arrives. Which will be midnight tonight."

Major Parker looked disappointed. Then he sighed, and grinned.

"Okay," he said, "we'll let it go at that. If he had wanted me to know anything, he'd have sent me a message, too. Well, as I said, the place is yours. I've got some paper work to do, so I'll have to leave you for a spell. Don't hesitate to make yourselves at home. If there is anything you want, just yell. See you later."

"Yes, sir, and thanks for everything," Dawson said. He and Farmer also rose as the senior officer got to his feet.

"Think nothing of it," the major said with a wave of his hand. "And have fun, if you can find any fun around this place." With a smile and a nod, he went through the mess door.

Freddy looked at Dawson, and Dawson looked right back at him.

"Nice enough chap, isn't he?" the English youth finally broke the silence.

"Yes, he's okay," Dawson agreed. "I guess he is going bats down here with nothing to do. That is, nothing in his own line of work. Say, Freddy?"

"Yes, Dave."

"How about walking down some of this swell meal, huh?" Dave suggested.

"I could do with a walk around. And like Colonel Welsh, I'm not so keen about four walls."

"A top-hole idea," Freddy Farmer said gravely, and brushed a couple of crumbs off the skirt of his tunic. "I know just what you mean, old thing. I've been thinking about it myself. Yes, definitely a top-hole idea. Let's get along, shall we?"

"Yeah, let's," Dawson murmured, and led the way toward the mess door.

CHAPTER SEVEN

_Blackout_

The setting sun was turning the waters of Paria Gulf between Trinidad and Venezuela to blood red as Dawson and Farmer strolled along a footpath that skirted a huge sugar plantation close to the San Fernando field. As neither had ever set foot on Trinidad before, the many and strange sights that met their wandering gaze took up all of their attention, and the thought that was in the back of each youth's mind was not given utterance for quite some time.

Presently, though, Dawson came to a full stop, took a deep breath, and squatted down on the ground.

"Let's rest and watch the sunset," he said. "It looks like it's going to be something. Besides, that's plenty enough walking for these aged bones."

"I was wondering if you were going to keep it up forever," Freddy Farmer grunted, and sank down beside him. "Good grief! It does get your legs when you're not used to it."

"Think of the poor infantry, and realize how lucky you are," Dawson chuckled. "After all, pal, you and I were flying last night, not sleeping."

"And don't I know it!" the other youth replied. "Can hardly keep my eyes open now. As a matter of fact, when we get back, I'm going to borrow a place from Major Parker to sleep until Colonel Welsh shows up. Blast it, Dave! I don't think I feel very friendly toward the colonel, just now.

Heaven knows he's kept us in the dark once or twice in the past, but certainly nothing like this. I'm just about ready to explode with curiosity."

"Me, I'm almost beginning not to give a darn," Dawson said, and lazily stretched his arms over his head. "Too doggone much mystery and not an answer to a single question. Speaking of questions, Freddy--call me nuts, but I've got an awful funny feeling."

"About what, Dave?" the English youth asked quickly, and gave him a searching look.

"These darned sealed envelopes we're still carrying around," Dave replied. "The four we've still got, counting Major Parker's. In the colonel's message, he ordered us to destroy them if necessary.

Well--well, outside of that dizzy U-boat thing, it's been just an airplane flight. Yet--darn it, Freddy--having these envelopes in my pocket is giving me the jim-jams!"

"Yes, I know what you mean," young Farmer admitted, and frowned. "I'm getting rather fed up with carrying them around, too. Silly, of course, but a couple of times I've felt as though somebody were watching every move I made."

Dawson started slightly and took a quick glance in all four directions, but he didn't see anyone, except some people near the San Fernando base over half a mile away. He looked at Freddy and grinned a little sheepishly.

"You have, kid?" he echoed. "Well, me too. I've been having exactly that kind of feeling, too. You know what I think about hunches!"

"Yes," the other replied. "And I also know that sometimes your hunches are worth giving serious consideration."

"Sometimes, he says" Dawson snorted. "Look, pal--Oh, skip it! Now about the four envelopes, Freddy, if you want my opinion on the matter, it's--let's dump the acid on them and be rid of the darn things. Maybe Colonel Welsh won't like it, but what the heck? He said, _if necessary_, and the funny feeling I've got right now, and have had ever since we got his message, makes me think it _is_ necessary! What do you think? Or am I going off half-c.o.c.ked?"

Freddy Farmer didn't reply for a moment. He sat staring out over the Gulf of Paria that was now changing from blood red to midnight blue since the sun had gone down behind the headlands of Venezuela. Finally he reached a hand up inside his tunic and nodded abruptly.

"If you're going off half-c.o.c.ked, then we both are, Dave," he said quietly. "I'm all for getting rid of them. If you alone had the funny feeling, I'd say no. But I've got a queer feeling, too. So--well, here go my two, anyway."

As young Farmer spoke, he took out his two sealed envelopes and dropped them on the ground. Then, moving back a bit, he unscrewed the cap of his little vial and poured the brownish-colored contents over the envelopes.

There was a small flash of flame as the stuff came in contact with the envelopes which seemed to melt away into the ground, leaving nothing but a black smudge where they had been.

"Boy, does that do the trick!" Dawson breathed, and dropped his two sealed envelopes on the spot where Freddy's two had been. "Drop that vial, Freddy, and kick dirt over it. Just a smell of that stuff would most likely take the soles off your shoes. Okay, here go mine, too."

A few seconds later there was another dark smudge on the ground, and not so much as a shred of any of the sealed envelopes, or their contents.

Both Dawson and Freddy dropped their empty vials, kicked dirt over them, and stamped the little mounds flat. Then, as if by mutual agreement, they relaxed and heaved deep sighs of relief.

"Maybe I was wrong," Dawson said thoughtfully. "Maybe Colonel Welsh will hit the roof when we tell him. Just the same, though, I feel a hundred per cent better."

"Quite!" Freddy Farmer murmured, but with emphasis. "I feel as though a terrific weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I swear, Dave, I haven't got a strong enough heart to stand much of this sort of thing.

Frankly, this is the first contented breath I've taken since we left Washington."

"Yeah, I know," Dawson agreed. "The colonel certainly did pour on the old caution stuff this time. So I guess it was--or still is--something pretty doggone important. But there I go again, wondering what it's all about. I sure wish the colonel would hurry up and get here!"

"Know something, Dave?" Freddy asked after a couple of moments of silence between them.

"_Know_ something?" Dave groaned, and rolled over on his stomach. "Maybe you haven't been listening to me, pal. _I_ don't know from nothing. Do you?"

"Not exactly," Freddy replied. "Just the old guessing game again. I am guessing, though, that somebody found out about those sealed envelopes.

Also, they found out that you and I were acting as the messenger boys.

Also, they arranged that balmy life-raft and U-boat business this afternoon. And also, Colonel Welsh is a very worried man, right at the moment."

"All of which means nothing," Dawson added, "and will continue to mean nothing until the colonel gets here, and explains. _If_ he does."