A new day's sun was climbing up over the eastern rim of a whole world embroiled in total war. A new day that would see small triumphs, and big ones, at one front or another. And a new day that would see more war miracles performed, and more fading life for some, and sudden violent death for countless others.

A new day of war, but for Dave Dawson, and Freddy Farmer, it was not the beginning of something new. Rather, it was the beginning of the end of something old. Before that sun set in the west again they would be in Chungking, the secret document would be delivered to Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek, and a mission that had carried them almost two-thirds of the way around the world would be all over but the shouting—and the great and deep sighs of utter relief.

"Don't say it, Dave!" Freddy Farmer spoke up as the pair stood on the edge of the Flying Tiger field at Menglien while mechanics warmed up the engines of six Curtiss P-Forties. "Don't say it, for Heaven's sake. It's brought us too much bad luck already!"

"Okay, I won't say it," Dawson grunted, and gave him a side-long look. "But off the record, just what in blue blazes are you yapping about?"

"Your favorite speech ever since we left Colonel Welsh!" the English youth shot back at him. "Remember? Three more laps, Freddy, old kid. Two more laps, Freddy, my boy. Just one more hop and we'll be there. And so forth, and so on? And each time you've made that little speech we've barged straight into bad business. So, for goodness sake, spare us this time. In fact, my good man, shut up, will you, until after we've landed at Chungking?"

"Okay, okay!" Dawson growled. "But just the same, it's practically in the bag now, and so—"

"So shut up!" Freddy ordered him. "Will you please stop defying the gods?"

"Sweet tripe!" Dawson snorted. "What a superstitious mug you turned out to be. But okay. Maybe we won't ever reach Chungking! There! Does that make you happy?"

"Makes me feel worse!" the English youth snapped. "Because there's no telling but what you might be right, at that!"

"Oh my gosh!" Dawson groaned, and shook his head sadly. "I wonder what kind of a bug did bite you there in the jungle anyway? My guess is that the natives around these parts call it the Coo-Coo Bug. A variety of the Screwy Family, probably!"

Freddy Farmer didn't make any retort to that, because he didn't have time to. At that moment Major Brown, Lieutenant Sweeney, and two other Flying Tigers came over to join them. The A.V.G. commander looked at Dawson's hastily washed and mended uniform, and grinned.

"Sorry our home-made steam laundry couldn't do better, Dawson," he chuckled. "But this is Burma, not China. Still, even at that, you'll be one of the best dressed people in Chungking, I guess. Their wardrobes have been Jap-bombed and blasted around plenty, too."

"I'm not fussy about my looks, Major," the young Yank air ace grinned back at him. "Even if I get to Chungking in a barrel, it'll be okay by me. Yeah! Just so long as I get there."

"Well, don't worry about that!" Major Brown said with a vigorous shake of his head. "We're practically there now. Just one more hop, and—Say! What's the matter, Farmer? You swallow something the wrong way?"

"No, no, sir!" Freddy hastily assured him, as the blood started up his neck. "Just had a bad memory for a moment. No, I'm quite all right. Quite!"

"Okay, then," the Flying Tiger group leader grunted, and glanced over at the warming up P-Forties. "Let's get this joy hop underway. We've got about eight hundred miles to go, but it'll be a cinch with those extra tanks fitted aboard. However, some Japs will be on the prowl, no doubt. So we'd better get on with it, so that we can get it over with, or something like that. Anyway, into your sky hacks, Gentlemen. See you all on the Chungking field, eventually."

"Fair enough!" Dawson sang out happily. "Just one more—Oops! Sorry, Freddy, old pal!"

"That's more like it!" the English youth muttered, and ran over toward his plane.

If one could study the Japanese Air Force records for that particular day, one would undoubtedly find that numerous Nippon planes were in the air between Menglien, Burma, and Chungking, China. However, if one could talk with the little slant-eyed pilots of those planes, and get them to tell the truth—which, of course, would be an out and out impossibility—one would unquestionably learn that although they were in the air, the terrible fear of shark head-painted Curtiss P-Forties was in their black hearts, as well as in their heathen-brained heads!

At any rate, no Jap plane came within radio distance of that tight six-plane formation that roared up out of Burma and across the South China border. And if they did, they spotted those Flying Tigers first, and made tracks for more distant places. Twice Dawson thought he saw a few dots or so hugging some scattered clouds high up in the brassy sun-filled sky. But he couldn't tell for sure. And they might well just have been tricks of his imagination.

So finally the six-plane formation reached the broad and much bombed expanse of the Chungking Airport, circled it twice in salute, and then slid down to a perfect landing. A few moments later the pilots had taxied up to the tarmac line, and had legged out to stretch cramped and aching muscles. As for Dawson, it was all he could do to refrain from leaping out and kissing the ground, he was that joyously thankful that all was at an end, definitely. Or so he thought!

However, he curbed his impulse. He climbed down with the others, grinned happily at Freddy Farmer, and then turned to stare at the small group of Chinese military officials walking out to meet them. One, however, was in civilian clothes, and as Dawson spotted him the Yank's heart executed a perfect outside loop in dumbfounded amazement. The broadly smiling Chinese in civilian dress hurrying toward them was none other than Minister of War Soo Wong Kai!

"Good gosh, it can't be!" Dave heard Freddy Farmer gasp at his elbow. "Why—why, we left him in London!"

"Yeah, I know," Dave grunted. "But I just happened to think, pal. R.A.F. planes make this hop by way of Gibraltar, Cairo, India, and so on, you know. And he didn't have any tough luck to hold him up places, probably. But heck! You should feel happy to see Soo Wong Kai, kid!"

Dawson would have said more, but at that moment the little group reached them, and the beaming Soo Wong Kai was wringing them both by the hand.

"My blessings and those of all my countrymen upon you, my dear Captains!" he said. "There are not the words in all the world to express the overflowing happiness in my heart. Even death at this moment would be but death for a man whose cup of joy is filled to the brim. Again, Captains, the greetings and blessings of all China. You two shall live among her heroes forever."

"Thank you, sir," Dawson said with an effort. "And I can assure you that there are not the words either to express how glad Farmer and I are to be here. Tell me, though, sir—just how much did you beat us by?"

"By only a few hours, Captain," the Chinese said with a laugh. "I was delayed a short time in Calcutta. However, we meet again, and all is as it should be."

"And how, sir!" Dawson replied fervently. "I—Say, I beg your pardon, sir. Permit me to introduce—"

"Major Brown, and these other Flying Tiger heroes?" Soo Wong Kai interrupted pleasantly. "But I already possess the high honor of knowing them, Captain Dawson. In fact, all of the gallant Flying Tigers are my friends. How are you, Major Brown? And you, Gentlemen?"

"Very well, thank you, sir," Major Brown replied for himself, and his pilots. "And delighted to meet you again. But may I ask if your journey to London was successful?"

For a moment Soo Wong Kai looked at Dawson and Farmer. Then he turned to Major Brown and smiled.

"Successful countless million times over, my dear Major Brown," he said. "But I, too, must beg pardons. Permit me to present these military officials of my country. Then we will proceed to the Generalissimo's headquarters. He and Madame Chiang Kai-shek are eagerly and anxiously awaiting us at this moment."

It took a few minutes for the introductions to be made, and then all walked over to where several Chinese Army cars stood waiting. Soo Wong Kai, Dawson, Farmer, and Major Brown rode in the first car, while the other Flying Tigers and the Chinese military officials rode in the other cars. And then for the next half-hour Dawson and Freddy Farmer forgot all about the hardships and nerve-racking trials through which they had passed in the last five days, and lost themselves completely in the many and varied sights of the Far East that greeted them as the motor cavalcade made its way through the throng-packed streets of Chungking.

And then finally they approached the building that housed Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek's headquarters. Suspended from poles above the broad steps leading up to the main doors were all the flags of the United Nations. And as Dawson caught sight of Old Glory among them something swelled up in his heart, and his eyes grew bright with deep and reverent pride.

"All for one, and one for all!" he said softly.

"Eh, what's that, Dave?" Freddy Farmer grunted in his ear.

He turned and grinned at his English pal.

"I said, this is it, kid!" he chuckled. "The last stop. The end of the line, and—"

But Dawson never finished the rest of that sentence. At that exact instant a fiendish scream of rage rose high above the general murmur of the throngs gathered in front of the Generalissimo's headquarters. A horrible unearthly scream of satanic madness that chilled Dawson's blood, and made his flesh crawl. And in almost the same instant a human body came hurtling through the air. The violent movement was so sudden and so utterly unexpected that Dawson couldn't so much as move a muscle as a berserk jungle beast in human form crashed down on top of him, and drove him hard against the back of the car seat.

For one fleeting tick of a second his brain was a completely stunned blank. And then his eye caught the flash of a thin, gleaming steel blade held poised above him. But instinct was taking charge of him even as his eyes were registering the terrible truth upon his brain. Instinct that made him twist violently and crack up with one arm with every ounce of his strength. And as his upflung arm caught that screaming object under the chin, he brought up his clenched right fist with terrific battering-ram force. Pain from the blow shot clear up his arm to the elbow, but his was the fierce satisfaction of seeing that poised steel blade go flying off into space. And of seeing, also, a hideous face horribly distorted by excruciating pain.

Then in the next second he was not quite sure of just what he did see. Rather, so many things happened, and so fast, that it was practically impossible for one pair of human eyes to follow them in detail. But he did see Freddy Farmer lunge upward and grab for the choking, squealing figure still sprawled on him. And he did see the short, rotund Soo Wong Kai transform himself into a veritable pin-wheel of stabbing lightning. As though by magic, a similar steel-bladed knife appeared in Soo Wong Kai's hand. And as though by magic, also, the blade disappeared straight into the chest of the squealing, gasping figure on top of Dawson. But in the next instant the squealing figure was lifted clear by Soo Wong Kai, and hurled down onto the street beside the car. And the third bit of magic was when Chinese headquarters guards virtually materialized out of thin air and completely circled the car to protect the occupants from the chattering crowds striving to press in close.

"Holy smoke!" Dawson was conscious of his own voice choking out. "What was that? And where in thunder did it drop from? What gives, anyway?"

"A last gasping effort by Satan himself!" he heard Soo Wong Kai tell him. "And praise to all the gods that he failed even in this his dying effort. But his blade did not touch you, Captain?"

"Not—not quite!" Dawson gulped. "But I wouldn't want it any closer. But—My gosh! A Jap!"

Dawson popped out the last as he saw the face of the limp figure stretched out on the street beside the car.

"He is a Jap, isn't he?" he said to Soo Wong Kai. "I mean, he has the face."

"He is," Soo Wong Kai told him gravely. "The face, the black heart, and the mad brain of the hated enemy of my country. But cunning and great cleverness was his, too. Knoye Kyoto served his Emperor long, and well. But as to all such as he, failure and death can be his only rewards in this life."

"I say, sir!" exclaimed Freddy Farmer. "You know him?"

Soo Wong Kai smiled as he nodded, but his smile was one of sadness, and a little pity.

"For as many years as you have fingers on your two hands," he replied. "But no, not personally. I have known only of him, and of the real truth of his life in Europe, where he has resided for many years. There are many devils like Knoye Kyoto. To you they seem outcasts, men without a country. However, for every minute of their lives they remain obedient slaves to their masters. Yes, many of us here in China have known of Knoye Kyoto, but there was nothing we could do, and less that we could say—because it would not have been believed. However, the gods turned their smiles upon me. Quite by accident I saw Kyoto in London. It was the day after you had left. It was the day I started my journey home, with my heart bursting with prayers for your safekeeping, and arrival."

The new Chinese Minister of War paused for a moment and turned reverent eyes heavenward.

"I saw him, and then flew away in my plane," he went on presently. "Then in Calcutta only yesterday I saw him again. No, that is an untruth to say that. Rather, I thought I saw him. And a great worry was mine. Could it be that he, too, was bound for Chungking? Had he slipped out of England to the Germans in France, and had they provided air passage to Calcutta? Was he bound for Chungking to strike his final blow when you two did arrive? To kill you in your moment of great glory? I asked myself that many times. And the answer was the same. It could well be true, for to the Japanese brain defeat and revenge are the same. I am as sure as I am that he is there dead in the street that Knoye Kyoto gave the orders meant to doom your mission in failure. And that he came here to get his own personal revenge in the form of your lives in the face of his own defeat.

"Yes, I thought I saw him in Calcutta yesterday. So I remained there overnight, and I sought the aid of many friends of China who could accomplish in a few hours what I personally could not have accomplished in weeks and months—a search of the city for this Knoye Kyoto. But he was not found. I realized now that he had perhaps already left before my friends started the search. But—Forgive me, I beg of you, my true and dear friends; I did not dream that he would not strike his blow until this late moment. At the airport? Yes. A possibility. But here, at the very steps of the Generalissimo's headquarters? I am overwhelmed with shame for what has happened. And I can but offer you the humble apologies of my entire life for the thoughtlessness, the stupidity, and the humiliation that I have—"

"Hold on a minute, sir!" Dawson stopped him, and grinned. "It wasn't your fault at all. Not a bit. The truth of the matter is that I've got you to thank for my life for the rest of my life. No fooling, sir. If it hadn't been for you, why—well, believe me, I—"

"Quite, sir!" Freddy Farmer spoke up as Dawson stumbled over the words to say. "But for your brilliant thinking and action, there would have been terrible tragedy at the very last moment. Yes, quite!"

And then, staring hard at Dawson, the English youth added:

"Yes, tragedy for a blasted, balmy idiot who can't seem to get a bad luck speech out of that lame brain of his. This was it, was it? Last stop, eh? End of the line, was it? Why, you blithering—"

But Dave Dawson wasn't listening to Freddy Farmer. Instead he sat stiff and straight with one hand impulsively pressed against that part of his half washed and hastily mended tunic that covered the thick sealed envelope in his inside pocket, and watched with shining eyes as two of the world's most honored people, living or dead, came slowly down the steps of Chinese Army headquarters at Chungking. The Generalissimo and Madame Chiang Kai-shek!

THE END

[1] Dave Dawson at Singapore.