Hunching over the controls, Dave veered the Fulmar around until it was heading in the direction of the U-boat, and then steepened his dive to gain extra speed. Unconsciously he felt for the straps of his life jacket, or Mae West as they call them in the Royal Air Force. Even as he touched them, however, he grinned and gave a little shake of his head. If they smacked that surfacing U-boat as they planned, their life jackets wouldn't be of any use to them. When you're smashed to pulp in a crash a life jacket is just a souvenir for somebody else to take home.

"And smack him we're going to!" Dave grated to himself. "Good old Freddy. I simply told him what I was going to do, and there wasn't a single yip of complaint out of him. Dear God, if one of us can come through this thing please make it Freddy Farmer. England needs him, and alive!"

As the simple but straight from the heart prayer slid off Dave's lips he steepened his dive even more. The U-boat had suddenly started acting strangely. It was half awash and seemed to be hanging half in and half out of the water. Then as the bow started to go under again the truth dawned on Dave. The U-boat's commander had sighted them, guessed their intentions, and was not taking any chances. Instead he had slammed shut the conning tower hatch and was crash diving as fast as his diving fins and propellers could take him down.

"Faster, Dave, faster!" Freddy's voice screamed. "The beggar is trying to cheat us. He's going to pop down where we can't hit him. Get the blasted rotter, Dave. Get him, please!"

"What do you think this is, slow motion?" Dave shouted back over his shoulder. "Our engine's dead, pal, you know. All we've got is gliding speed. And it isn't going to be enough, I don't think."

"It's got to be!" Freddy howled and unconsciously thumped Dave on the back. "We can't let him cheat us. We just can't!"

Dave didn't bother to make any further comment. The Fulmar was streaking down like a comet straight from Heaven, but the U-boat wasn't losing any time in crash diving. In the last couple of seconds Dave knew that they had lost. If he dived straight in they would only hit hard water, and not even touch the U-boat that was now completely submerged. And so in the last split instant of time Dave hauled up the nose of the Fulmar in order to save Freddy and himself from certain instant death.

The diving speed of the plane was too great, however, to permit him to pull it completely up onto level keel. The belly of the plane struck the water with terrific force. The mighty hands of invisible giants seemed to reach down and jerk the plane up toward the sun flooded sky. Then suddenly they sent it crashing down again. Twice more the plane bounced before it finally stayed down. And during that time Dave and Freddy were tossed about in their double cockpit like a couple of dried peas in a tin can. A thousand and one fire crackers went off in Dave's head. Hundreds of bombs exploded, and countless balls of colored light wheeled and spun around before his eyes. Then as though somebody had slammed shut a sound proof door, there was nothing but silence all about him.

For a moment or so he sat slumped up against the side of the cockpit where the last crazy lurch of the plane had flung him. Then he gulped air into his aching lungs, slowly sat up straight and turned around to look at Freddy. The British youth was upside down in his section of the cockpit. His head was down by the flooring, and his feet were sticking up in the air. His safety belt had been snapped in two by the terrific impact of the plane, but by some miracle he had been spared serious injury. Even as Dave reached back to lend a hand Freddy wiggled himself around and came upright, eyes popping and his face the color of a flaming sunset. It was a second or so before he could drag enough air into his lungs to speak.

"Did we get it, Dave?" he finally choked out.

"Sure we got it!" Dave replied. "But I don't mean the U-boat. You don't happen to have a nice ocean going cruiser in your hip pocket, do you? I think this baby is going to sink right from under us in darn short order."

As Dave spoke he made a sweeping gesture with one hand. Freddy looked about and it was not joy and happiness that came into his eyes. The Fairey Fulmar fighter plane looked as though it had been jammed through a meat grinder. The tail was completely gone; broken off clean as though clipped by an axe. The wing was twisted and bent, and the fuselage was punched full of holes. Sea water was coming in through the holes, and coming in fast. Freddy shook his head and looked at Dave in apologetic chagrin.

"If we get out of this you can kick me around the block six times!" he said bitterly. "All my fault for not letting you get that blasted Fairey Swordfish when you had him cold. It wasn't until after that that he got our engine. Gee, Dave, I could jump overboard and drown myself for being such a blasted fool. I...."

"I might have known!" Dave snapped at him. "We no sooner get in a tight spot and you want to quit me cold!"

"But, Dave," Freddy protested, "I didn't mean it that way. I simply meant that I...."

"Then get a grin on your mug, and stop picking on yourself!" Dave cut in. "How many times have I got to explain that Freddy Farmer is the best pal I ever hooked up with, and that I don't allow anybody to ride him. Not even you, Mister! Get it? Come on, that grin, or I'll toss you overboard, myself."

Freddy blinked a couple of times, swallowed, and then forced a faint smile to his lips.

"Always right there to put sense into a chap's head," he said softly. "That's Dave Dawson. But I still say I was a blasted fool. How long, though, do you think before we'll be in the water with only our Mae Wests keeping us afloat?"

Dave shrugged and made a little gesture with both hands.

"Search me," he grunted. "Your guess is as good as mine. What's worrying me is that darn U-boat. If we'd only been able to clip it. We didn't, and now the darn thing's down under some place getting ready to let loose a brace of torpedoes at the first navy ship that comes tearing up this way."

"I wonder about that," Freddy said. "Maybe it just happened to come to the surface by accident. Ten to one it's making tracks for distant places right now."

"No," Dave said firmly. "I'm sure it's hanging around. This thing was all planned, Freddy. That bum in that Fairey Swordfish proved that to me."

"How so?" Freddy questioned with a frown.

"Gosh, it's simple to figure that one!" Dave cried. "Didn't you see that bird make a couple of final passes at us and then breeze off? No, Freddy, that boy had a perfect chance to riddle us both with slugs so that it would be a waste of time for anybody to pick us up, but he didn't! His job was just to shoot us down for a forced landing."

"Good grief, I believe you're right!" Freddy Farmer gasped. "But what was the idea of that U-boat coming to the surface? Why did it risk showing itself to the pilots of a forced landing plane? That doesn't make sense to me."

"I think it makes sense to me," Dave said after a moment of thoughtful silence. "I think the U-boat was taking no chances of our signalling to anybody once we were in the water. Or of our sinking the plane so that searching craft wouldn't sight it. I think they planned to take us aboard, let the ship float, and submerge to wait for our navy ships to arrive."

"And that is probably what it's doing right now!" Freddy said, tight lipped. "Dave, we've got to think of something, some way to warn all surface ships away from here. There may be a dozen U-boats waiting!"

"You're telling me?" Dave muttered grimly and hoisted himself up on the seat to keep clear of the mounting water level in the cockpit. "But what in thunder can we do? The radio's out. And even if we could set the ship on fire ... which we can't ... the column of smoke would only attract the navy boats all the more. There's just one chance, one hope. And it's the slimmest hope you and I ever had, my boy!"

"Well, what is it?" the English youth cried impatiently. "Anything's worth a try."

"We can only hope that a Fleet Air Arm plane will get here well ahead of any naval craft," Dave said. "The trouble is they may hold back the planes for fear that they would be sighted before the destroyers and cruisers arrived. It's the raider they want most, you know. And I don't think they'd risk showing a plane until the surface ships were close enough to check the raider from making a run for port and escaping."

"And there isn't any raider!" Freddy groaned as lines of worry grooved his face. "We don't know what kind of a trap this is. We don't know what the navy ships may run into. Phew! What a mess I made of things."

"Shut up!" Dave growled. "I was as much at fault as you were. A great deal more, in fact. I should have made a run for it the instant you sighted that plane, instead of sticking around and trying to outfly him. No, Freddy, we're in it together. And our only hope is that a Fleet Air Arm plane will get here first."

"You mean so's they'll see there's no raider about and suspect that it is some kind of trap?" Freddy asked hopefully. "And they can radio the surface ships to stand clear?"

"Partly that," Dave said with a nod. "But mostly so's we can wig-wag them with our shirts and tell them to radio the fleet to stand clear. That's our hope. That they'll spot us first and read what we signal to them. And...."

"Dave, look!" Freddy suddenly screamed. "The hope's come true. There's a plane up there to the northwest. It's a Catalina, too. And they've spotted us. See? She's starting to slide down from altitude!"

Dave snapped one quick glance up toward the huge flying boat several thousand feet overhead and some five or six miles distant. Then he started tearing off his Mae West life jacket, and ripping off his tunic to get at the white shirt he wore.

"Get your shirt off, too, Freddy!" he barked. "Here, give it to me. Thanks. You wave both arms westward and I'll wig-wag for them to radio the surface boats to stand clear. Okay, Freddy, start waving. We've got to make those boys understand that all plans have gone haywire!"

Hoisting himself up until he was standing straddle legged with a foot braced on either side of the cockpit, Dave clutched Freddy's shirt in one hand, his own in the other and started wig-wagging furiously at the huge Catalina boat that was continuing to lose altitude rapidly. Seconds passed and his arms ached so much he thought they were going to drop off at the shoulder sockets, but still the flying boat continued to come on down toward the water. It was Freddy who finally voiced the terrible fear that was mounting in his heart.

"They don't see our signals, or else they don't understand, Dave!" the English youth groaned. "That boat is coming down to land alongside and take us aboard."

"I know," Dave said in a choked voice. "What are they, blind? Once they're on the water the U-boat can surface and blow them to kingdom-come. But keep signalling, Freddy. We've got to make sense to them!"

It was simply a futile, heartbreaking effort, however. The flying boat came down until it was almost touching the surface. Then it flattened out slightly and headed toward the fast sinking Fulmar with throttled engines. Another moment and the craft had touched the water. Spray showered up both sides of the hull. Then the craft settled and came slowly toward them as the engines picked up revs. Dave let his aching arms drop to his sides and anxiously scanned the surrounding waters. There was no sign of the U-boat, but that fact didn't make him feel any better. Deep down inside of him he had the firm conviction that the under-sea menace was lurking near ready to strike at the first opportunity.

Then suddenly came Freddy Farmer's shrill cry.

"Over there, Dave, to the right! A periscope! The U-boat's going to try for the Catalina!"