CHAPTER NINE

_A Desperate Mission_

Dawn was a little over an hour away and Dave Dawson couldn't drag his body forward another step. For hours he and Freddy Farmer had trudged across strange country through the darkness striving to put more and more ground between them and the pursuing Germans. A dozen times they had almost stumbled headlong into roving German mop-up patrols. And once they had crouched for a solid hour in a road ditch while a long line of tanks, and motorized artillery units had rumbled by heading westward.

But now he just couldn't go another step. He didn't care if the whole German Army was right at their heels. He had to stop and rest. There is a limit to the endurance of even the strongest of men, and Dave and Freddy had most certainly proved themselves to be men, not just mere boys, during those hours of mad flight across enemy held ground. Where they were Dave didn't know, nor did he care much right at the moment. The North Star had been his guide all the way, but they had been forced to change their direction in order to skirt bomb blasted villages filled with German troops, and roads clogged with parts of the mighty Nazi war machine, so it was impossible even to guess how far they had traveled, or in what general direction.

Now, though, as he came to the outer edge of some woods and saw the shadowy shapes of barren fields beyond, Dave flung himself down under some bushes and gave his body over to the utter fatigue and weariness which had been trying to drag him down for the last several miles. His throat was dry and craving for water, and his stomach was screaming for some of the bread and the hunk of cheese he and Freddy had so wisely saved from that huge breakfast, and had stuffed inside their shirts before crawling out the window. Yes, food and water would go fine, but later. He was too dead tired now to so much as move a muscle. In a dull sort of way he was conscious of Freddy flopping down beside him, and then a moment later he felt himself slip away into blissful peace.

A soothing warmth on his back eventually woke him up. He started to move but the sudden aches and pains in his body brought a stifled groan to his lips. He stayed where he was for a moment with his face buried in his crossed over arms, soaking up the soothing warmth on his back. Then he rolled over on his back and stared up through the bush branches at the sky. It was another perfect spring day and the sun was well up on high. That realization finally filtered into his tired brain and brought him sitting bolt upright.

"Gee, it must be close to noon!" he heard his own voice whisper. "And we've still got a heck of a ways to go. But where, and in what direction, I wonder?"

He turned and put out his hand to shake Freddy sleeping close beside him. But when he saw the pale drawn face of his friend he let his hand drop back into his lap. He just didn't have the heart to wake up Freddy. The English youth was positively dead to the world, and one look at the completely exhausted expression on Freddy's face told Dave the youth wouldn't be fit to travel even if he were awakened. True, it might be very dangerous for them to remain where they are. German soldiers might stumble about them at 'most any moment. Just the same a strange sense of responsibility took possession of Dave. He was the older of the two, and the stronger. By more or less mutual consent he had become the leader. As the leader he should use his head. And it would _not_ be using his head to wake up Freddy and force the poor kid to continue on.

"No, it's best to stick here, at least until dark," he argued with himself. "We're pretty well hidden under these bushes. And ... and, gosh, I just haven't the heart to wake him up!"

His decision made, he put his hand inside his shirt and pulled out the very much crushed half loaf of bread and the hunk of cheese. He ate a little of each and then made himself put the rest back inside his shirt. It helped his stomach a little, but it only served to aggravate his thirst. He'd rather have a glass of water right now than be standing in the middle of Piccadilly Circus, in London, with his father.

He lay back on the ground again and started thinking about his father in an effort to forget his thirst. But after no more than five or six seconds it just wasn't any use. He sat up again and peered around. It was then he saw the farm house and the sheds about half a mile away. Smoke was coming from the farm house chimney, and he could see figures moving about in the yard. Because of the sun in his eyes he couldn't tell if they were German troops or not. Off to the right he suddenly saw a moving cloud of dust. He knew at once it was a car traveling along a road. And presently the car came into view from behind a string of trees. It traveled up to the farm house and came to a stop. Four figures climbed out and hurried into the farm house. A faint hope that had been flowering in Dave died out at once. His straining eyes had made out the bucket shaped helmets and the tight-fitting field-grey uniforms of German officers.

Approaching the farm house was out of the question, now. He had hoped there might just be peasant farmers there, passed by by the Germans. But that obviously wasn't so. The place was alive with Hitler's soldiers. Fighting back his momentary defeat, he got slowly to his feet, took a make-sure look at the sleeping Freddy Farmer, and then crept off into the woods in search of a brook or a small pond.

Remembering his Boy Scout training, he broke branches off bushes every now and then so that he would be sure to find his way back to the sleeping Freddy. As a matter of fact, though, there really wasn't any need of his doing that. At the end of a quarter of a mile the ground sloped down into a shallow valley, and there was a small brook trickling through the middle. With a low cry of joy Dave rushed down to it, flung himself flat, and buried his face in the icy cold water. Never, never in all his life had anything felt so good, so completely satisfying as the coolness of that brook. Cupping his hands he drank until he couldn't hold another drop. Then tearing off part of his shirt sleeve he used it to wash his face and his neck. Finally, feeling almost like a new man, he got up and retraced his steps to his hiding place.

Freddy was awake when he got back, and when the English youth spotted him a look of fear and utter misery was instantly banished by joyful relief.

"Phew, what a fright you gave me!" Freddy choked out. "When I woke up I couldn't remember if we'd come to this spot together, or if we'd lost each other last night. I came jolly close to yelling for you and then I sighted those German blighters over at that farm house. Where have you been, and I wonder where we are?"

"I wish I knew," Dave said. "But I've got some good news, anyway. Go straight back about a quarter of a mile and you'll find a brook. Bet you could do with a nice long drink of water, couldn't you?"

"I should say so!" Freddy cried and sprang to his feet. "My throat feels completely filled up with dust."

"Then hop to it," Dave grinned and pointed. "Straight back. You'll see branches broken off the bushes. I'll wait here and try to figure our next move."

"Be right back," Freddy said and hurried off into the woods.

When the English youth left Dave sat down on the ground and fixed frowning eyes on the farm house. Last night in that prison room his brain had concentrated on but one problem. The problem of getting out of the room. Well, they had done that, and they had put considerable distance behind them. That was all, however. Now, there were more problems to confront, and consider. Number one, was to find out where they were. Number two, was to decide whether or not it was safe yet to start heading west, or to continue north, and number three, was the problem of food. Whether they went north, south, east, or west they had a long road facing them, and their bread and cheese was not going to last forever. They would have to get food some place. And that farm house....

Dave let his thoughts trail off and stop as Freddy came up and sat down beside him. The English boy looked like an entirely different person. His eyes were clear and not heavy with fatigue. There was a lot of color back in his face, and there was a happy and contented smile on his lips.

"I'll remember that brook all the rest of my life," he said. "Gee, nothing ever seemed so good. Well, have you thought up a plan? I fancy, though, we'd better stay here until it's dark. We're bound to be stopped in daylight. That colonel chap has probably radioed a description of us all over the place."

"Gee whiz, you think so?" Dave ejaculated. "Just to catch a couple of fellows like us?"

"I fancy so," Freddy said in a sober adult voice. "He'll be hopping mad that we escaped. And besides pricking his pride it will probably add to his silly ideas about us. Yes, I think the blighter will go to all ends to catch us. So, we'd better keep a watchful eye out even if we are in a hurry. What do you make of that farm house?"

"I've been thinking about it," Dave grunted. "There are Germans there, of course, but there must be food, too. If we could only manage to swipe some food I'd feel a lot better about starting out again. It's going to be a long walk, and it's a cinch we won't be able to do any hitch-hiking with German tanks and armored cars all over the place."

"True," Freddy murmured. "But we might have to walk for days, and days. Then the information we have might not be of any use to the Allied High Command. We've got to get back quickly, Dave, and I'm afraid we can't do that by walking all the way."

"No, I guess not," Dave said unhappily. "But we'd be taking a heck of a chance trying to thumb a ride. Maybe, though, if we moved over close to that road over there, an empty truck or something might come by and we could slip aboard it for a little ways, anyway. Gosh, it seems a hundred years since I left Paris!"

"Two hundred," Freddy said with a sigh. "I certainly never even dreamed that anything like this would ever happen to me."

"Me, too," Dave said and gave a little half shake of his head. "Boy, what I'll have to tell the fellows when I get back home!"

"We're not back home, yet," Freddy said grimly. "Let's talk some more about what we should do."

It was as though Lady Luck or the Good Fairy had been waiting for that exact moment. From up in the sky to the east came the throbbing drone of a German plane. The two boys swiveled around at once, shielded their eyes with their hands and peered upward. The plane was down fairly low and coming straight toward them. A moment of panic seized hold of Dave and he unconsciously grabbed hold of Freddy and pulled them both down under the bushes.

"Gosh!" he exclaimed excitedly. "Maybe they've got planes out looking for us. Don't move a muscle and they won't see us. Gee, it's a biplane, but it's got the swastika marking on the tail. I thought all the German ships were monoplane design."

Freddy didn't answer for a moment. He sat crouched low under the protecting bush branches and squinting his eyes up at the plane.

"That's a German plane, right enough," he said presently. "I recognize it, now. It's an Arado AR-95. It's a two seater, and was built as a torpedo plane. They use it off airplane carriers, but it's a pretty old type. Look, Dave! The pilot has cut his engine. He's gliding down. I say, let's get out of here! The observer in back has probably spotted us!"

"Now, wait!" Dave hissed and shot out a hand to stop Freddy from leaping to his feet and dashing back into the woods. "If they have spotted us we'd not get far before we'd be caught. Besides, I don't think they've seen us. Look! He's going into a gliding turn. Freddy! I'll bet you a million dollars he's going to land in that smooth field over there. Yes, sir, that's what he's going to do!"

"You're right, Dave!" Freddy breathed. "And some of the Germans in that farm house are running out to meet them. But I don't like this, Dave. They may be landing to tell them where we are."

"Nope," Dave said doggedly. "They wouldn't land. They'd either drop a message, or use their radio If they have one. They'd stay up to see which way we headed. Nope. That's some kind of a headquarters over there, Freddy. I bet the plane is bringing them a message."

"I hope you're right," Freddy said in an uncertain voice, as his clear blue eyes clouded with doubt. "There! He's down on the ground, now, and braking to a stop."

"That sure is a sweet looking ship!" Dave breathed softly. "An Arado AR-95, huh? Oh, sure, now I remember seeing pictures of that design. It has a B.M.W. radial engine. (_Bavarian Motor Works_). The Germans used it a lot in training their pilots. It's not so fast as the other war planes, and it's a cinch to fly, they say. _Freddy!_"

Dave almost shouted the name, and his fingers still gripping the English youth's arm bit deep into the flesh.

"Ouch, my arm!" Freddy protested, "What's the matter, Dave? What's up?"

Dave didn't reply. He watched the German plane come to a stop. The pilot and observer jumped down onto the ground and walked toward the group of Germans advancing from the farm house. They met and appeared to talk for a moment or two. Then all of them turned and went back to the farm house. When they passed inside Dave took a quick look over at the Arado with its prop ticking over, then swung around to face Freddy.

"Maybe that solves our problem, Freddy!" he said in a strained whisper. "That plane!"

"The plane?" Freddy echoed with a frown. "What about it? Good grief, you surely don't mean...."

"Why not?" Dave countered. "I made my first solo on a better ship than that. I'll bet you anything you like I can handle it. What do you say, Freddy?"

The English youth gulped and looked most undecided. Dave took the moment of silence to press home his point.

"It's the best bet we could possibly have!" he argued. "Gee, in that ship we could be behind the Allied defenses in no time. I say let's try it, anyway. Gee whiz, Freddy, we might be stuck here for months. There's no telling what we might run into. What do you say? Are you game to try it with me?"

The English youth was already smiling and nodding his head.

"Right you are, Dave, I'm game," he said quietly. "Anything's better than just sitting here. And between us we ought to make a go of it. Right-o, Dave, if you like."

"That's the stuff!" Dave said and slapped him on the back. "They're all inside the farm house now, and if we keep back of that field wall, there, we can get right up close without being seen. When I give you the sign, run like the dickens for the ship. Gee! We've got to make it, Freddy. _We've just got to!_"

The two boys looked at each other, nodded, and then started crawling out from under the bushes on all fours.