this crate up." Allison's mocking grin appeared at the corners of his mouth. "How much? Don't be holdin' out secrets on us," O'Malley growled. "It's only a wild guess, but I'd say about forty minutes." O'Malley gave a startled yelp and spun the ship around to a south by west course. "Sure, an' we're gettin' out o' here," he said. Allison slipped into the copilot's seat while Stan sat on a folding stool behind him. O'Malley gave all his attention to nursing speed out of the old ship. He got her air-speed indicator up to two hundred and fifty miles per hour, but the indicator needle was bent, so there was no sure way of knowing how fast they were going. They left the expanse of water behind and headed over a rugged country. Stan felt certain they were flying down the toe of the Italian boot. Everything was going fine when Stan spotted fighter planes above them and to the west. He did not say anything until the craft were near enough to be identified. "Nine Airacobras off your port wing at two o'clock, Commander," he shouted. O'Malley craned his neck and squinted, then he began to grin. "Sure, an' there is," he said. "It's an escort we've been needin'. Likely the boys will know the way home." "Certainly they will," Allison said. "And they'll know a Fiat BR 20, also. This crate looks like a bomber." "We better duck and go downstairs for a bit of hedge-hopping," Stan advised. The Airacobras had spotted the lone bomber and were peeling off like hounds scenting a buck. O'Malley did not need any suggestions as to what to do. He nosed the Fiat over and sent her down the chute in a screaming dive that threatened to pull the wings off her. Stan glanced at his chute harness to make sure everything was in order. He figured O'Malley would fold up the Fiat like an old accordion when he started to pull her out of the dive. The Airacobras rapidly overtook the bomber, even though she was power-diving far beyond her limit of stability. Stan saw one of the boys flash in on their tail. "Kite her!" he bellowed. "Stinger on your tail!" O'Malley and Allison both hauled back and the Fiat wobbled and staggered as she started to lift. Stan could hear her joints giving way, then she bounced. Lead whistled below them, while the Airacobra roared down the trail of its own bullets. "Close," Allison muttered. Stan squinted up and back. Two more fighters were lining up. It seemed plain that they were surprised at the antics of the Fiat. They had never seen one do stunts like that before. The two came raking in, blasting from longer range. Stan felt the lead rip through the Fiat's wings and body. One bullet plunked through close to his head, ripping a big hole, another exploded back in the tail compartment and half of the peninsula could be seen through the hole. "Sure, an' they need
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