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Dave Dawson at Casablanca Page 2
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CHAPTER TWO
_Just in Case_
"Well?" Freddy Farmer demanded as he leaned across the dining tabletoward Dawson. "Did I have a pipe dream, or not? Did you see who justcame in and sat down?"
"Yeah," Dawson grunted, and buttered a roll. "Your pal in gray. I wonderwhat's the big idea?"
"So do I!" Freddy echoed instantly. "And I've half a mind to go overright now and ask him. The beggar is beginning to give me the creeps. Hedoesn't look foreign, though."
"Hey, come out of your spin, pal!" Dawson chuckled. "What do you thinkthis is, Gestapo stuff?"
Freddy Farmer looked at Dawson and smiled slowly.
"I wouldn't know, old thing," he said. "You see, this isn't England, soI wouldn't know for sure _what_ kind of funny business was afoot."
"Ouch!" Dawson yipped softly, and flung up an arm in front of his face."Right in the eye, that time. You're improving each day with your snappycome-back, my young friend. Keep it up, and you'll be the life of theparty some day. Well, I guess that's all the fodder I want right now.How's for a stroll around in the beautiful January snow, huh? But it'sprobably slush by now, and--Hey! I almost forgot! You think I'm payingfor your meal, don't you? Well--"
"Of course not!" Freddy Farmer cut in quickly. "And just to show myheart's in the right place, I'll even pay for both of us."
"I wonder if there's a doctor in the house?" Dawson murmured, and staredhard at the English youth. "Sure you feel all right, Freddy?"
"Never felt better," the other replied. "Wait just a moment, will you,old thing? I'll be right back."
Before Dawson could ask questions, Freddy got up from his chair andwalked quickly across the dining room and down the broad flight ofcarpeted steps to the lobby. Dawson blinked, then took a sip of water,and glanced over at the man in gray. The mysterious stranger was lookingtoward the lobby, and was in the act of pushing himself up out of hischair. He seemed to change his mind, however. He shot a quick look overDawson's way, then settled back in his chair and went to work on a pieceof pie the waiter had placed in front of him.
"That bird sure is plenty interested in Freddy," Dawson muttered tohimself, and frowned. "I wonder what the heck's cooking around here,anyway?"
He played with that thought for two or three minutes, but was unable toget any place. And then as he happened to glance toward the dining-roomlobby entrance, he saw Freddy Farmer standing there and beckoning to himurgently. Dawson raised questioning eyebrows, took a look toward the manin gray, got up from his chair, and started to leave the table. He hadtaken but two steps when the waiter appeared at his elbow.
"The check, Captain," the waiter said politely.
"Oh, yeah," Dawson murmured absently, and glanced at the total. Hepulled some money from his pocket and gave it to the waiter. "There youare," he murmured again, and hurried over to the lobby entrance to thedining room where Freddy was waiting.
The English-born air ace greeted him with a grin like a Cheshire cat.
"And let that be a lesson to you, my good fellow," Freddy said with anemphatic nod of his head.
"Says which?" Dawson grunted, and gave him a blank look.
Freddy Farmer patted his stomach and licked his lips.
"A delicious meal, quite!" he breathed. "I hope you gave the waiter adecent tip. But, knowing you, I doubt it."
Dawson started violently, and his jaw dropped.
"Well, you little I-don't-know-what!" he eventually exploded. "Stuck mefor the meal, didn't you? I knew darn well you must have had somethingin mind when you gave your last two bucks to those soldiers. You playthe big-hearted big shot to them, and _I_ get stuck for your two bucks'worth of food!"
"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Freddy Farmer chuckled. "Just say it's yourshare in the lease-lend agreement between America and England. I'll payyou back some day, too."
"Yeah!" Dawson sneered. "When I'm a hundred and six and have lost all myteeth. When I can eat only soup instead of a thick steak like I justbought for you. But you just wait, my little bowlegged pet! I'll--Oh-oh!The man in gray, eh?" Dawson added the last because of the flinty lookthat had suddenly leaped into Farmer's eyes.
"Quite!" Freddy murmured. "And I'm jolly well sick of this hide-and-seekbusiness. I'm going to find out what the blighter's up to. I detestshadows, excepting my own."
With a grim nod Freddy Farmer stepped past Dawson and walked over towardthe man in gray who was just leaving the dining room. Dawson impulsivelyswung around and followed him. The man in gray acted as though he didnot see Freddy, but the English youth stopped in front of him, barringhis way.
"Have you been wishing to speak to me, sir?" Freddy asked quietly. "Isthat why you've been following me all over town all day?"
The man in gray looked blank for a moment. Then he shrugged and gaveFreddy a friendly smile.
"It _has_ been rather obvious, hasn't it, Captain Farmer?" he said asboth Freddy and Dawson stared at him, dumbfounded. "But you went to alot of places where I couldn't help but show myself. I guess you've hadenough experience to guess when you're being trailed. The name isCarter, Captain."
As the man in gray introduced himself, he slipped something out of hispocket and held it cupped in his hand so both youths could see it. Theytook a good look at the gold F.B.I. badge and quickly raised their eyesto the man's face.
"The F.B.I. no less!" Dawson breathed. "What's up? Is Farmer wanted bythe F.B.I.--I hope?"
The man chuckled and shook his head.
"No," he said. "Neither of you are, in fact. The two of us just hadorders to keep an eye on you both."
"'_Two_ of us'?" Dave echoed sharply. "You mean--" He let the rest go asthe F.B.I. agent nodded.
"That's right, Captain Dawson," he said quietly, and made a faintgesture toward the other side of the lobby. "My partner has been lookingafter you, while I tried to keep up with Captain Farmer here. IfCaptain Farmer hadn't returned to the dining room, I'd have taken on thejob of sticking with you, and my partner would have tackled CaptainFarmer. Frankly, I would have enjoyed the change. But now--"
The F.B.I. agent grinned and shrugged.
"But now that the cat's out of the bag," he said, "suppose we stopplaying cops and robbers and make it a foursome? My partner got ticketsright behind your seats for the hockey game tonight. We're also stayingat your hotel. Or would you rather be alone? Now don't be afraid thatyou'll hurt my feelings. I'll understand. After all, a couple of fellowson leave have their rights, you know."
"Yeah, sure, of course," Dawson mumbled absently, not quite sure if hewas in the middle of a dream or not. "Sure, sure it's okay by Freddy andme. But--but look, sir. I mean, what's all the big idea? Why should theF.B.I. want to follow us around? I don't get it."
"To be perfectly frank, neither do I," Agent Carter made the amazingreply. "All I know is that two days ago we were given orders to come upfrom Washington, register at your hotel, and keep an eye on you two."
"But for what?" Freddy Farmer asked. "You mean you were to guard usfrom harm, or some such silly rot?"
"I wouldn't exactly call it silly rot, Captain," the F.B.I. man saidgravely. "After all, you two are marked men, in a way. I mean by that,you've been thorns in the side of Axis Intelligence more than once sincethis Second World War started. Not that personal revenge by enemy agentsin this country is to be expected. Yet, on the other hand, there's nosense in regarding it as impossible."
"Well, I'll be darned!" Dawson gulped. "But that's just plain screwy.Why, I can name several dozen famous soldiers in this war that the Axiswould love to get a million times more than they'd want to get us. Doyou mean that everybody who's got in a few pokes at the Axis has anF.B.I. escort when he goes on leave?"
"Hardly," Agent Carter said with a smile. "Let's say that you two happento be special cases. Why, you can search me. Lots of times we're givenorders, and we have no idea what's behind them. Let's go over and meetmy partner. Or is my suggestion of a moment ago out?"
"No," Dawson replied. "I told you it was okay by us. Besides
, maybe yourpartner can tell us things."
"If he can, he won't," Agent Carter said. "You can count on that, I'mafraid. His name is Hickson, and it so happens that he's a rabid Rangerfan. He comes from this town. Let's go over."
Still not quite sure that he wasn't being made the goat of some crazygag, Dawson walked with Agent Carter and Freddy Farmer across the lobbyto where a thin, almost sickly-looking man of uncertain years was seatedin a chair reading a newspaper. He put down his paper and smiled as thetrio approached. It was then Dawson had a vague feeling he had seen thatthin face somewhere quite recently. Then as Agent Carter made theintroductions, it came to Dawson. Agent Hickson had been the man next inline behind him when he had bought tickets for the hockey game. As heshook hands and mumbled some pleasantry, Dave realized he had seen thatthin face other places, too, during the day.
"Did I give you as much trouble, Agent Hickson," he asked, "as Farmerseems to have given Agent Carter?"
"No, Captain," the other replied with a twinkle in his eye. "And don'tever go in for crime. You'd be a cinch."
"With those big flat feet, it would be obvious!" Freddy Farmer chuckled,as the red climbed into Dawson's face.
"Okay, okay!" Dave growled and grinned at the same time. "I'm not likeyou, with things on your conscience! So naturally I wouldn't even giveit a thought that anybody was following me. But look, Agent Hickson, canyou add anything to what Agent Carter has told us? Which was absolutelynothing."
"I'm afraid I can't, Captain." Hickson smiled, and shook his head."Carter and I are just a couple of slaves who do what we're told and askno questions."
"But you do know _something_, only you won't tell us, what?" FreddyFarmer pressed the issue.
The F.B.I. man shook his head again and made a little cross mark overhis heart.
"I honestly don't know a thing," he said, "except that I like thisparticular job. I'm from New York, you know. And I'm a hockey fan, incase Carter hasn't told you."
"He has," Dawson grinned, and glanced at his wrist watch. "And I sort ofgo for the game, myself. It's hours, though, before game time. Anybodyhave any suggestions what to do until then? Listen, Freddy! Eating isstrictly out, at least for a couple of hours!"
"You don't have to shout, old thing; I hear you," the English youthreplied. "Yes, I have a suggestion. I've been meaning to see that UnitedNations display they have at Radio City. What say we go back to thehotel and clean up a bit? These blasted American shoes I boughtyesterday are killing me."
Dawson started to shake his head, but instantly checked the movement. Agleam leaped into his eyes.
"Fair enough," he said. "I could do with a clean shirt myself. Come on.We'll take a cab."
During the cab ride across town to the hotel, they talked of this andthat and nothing in particular. When the cab pulled up in front of thehotel, Dawson opened the door, let the two F.B.I. men get out ahead ofhim, and got out quickly himself, leaving Freddy Farmer the last toalight. Without so much as a look over his shoulder, Dawson linked armswith the two F.B.I. men and hurried them up the steps into the hotel.
"Dave!" he heard Freddy Farmer call out. "Oh, I say, _Dave_!"
The two F.B.I. men wanted to stop, but Dawson practically pushed themthrough the doors.
"It's okay," he chuckled. "Just his turn to be left holding the bag.He'll be right in. You'll see."
That was exactly the case. A moment later Freddy came hurrying inside,flush-faced, with a very hard-eyed taxicab driver right at his heels.
"I say, Dave!" the English youth panted. "You know I haven't a bean onme. Let me have--"
"We're all broke!" Dawson said coldly. "You were last out, anyway. Goover to the desk, borrow the fare, and have it put on your bill. I'llsee if there's any mail for us. Meet you upstairs in our room."
Freddy Farmer glared and pursed his lips as though he were striving tohold back the blistering words that rose in his throat.
The cab driver looked at him and scowled darkly. "How's about it,General?" he growled. "I can't keep my hack out front all afternoon!"
"Oh yes, quite," Freddy said. "Come along!"
After giving a look that should have raised third-degree burns on theYank pilot's face, Freddy went over to the lobby desk and spoke to theclerk. Bursting with inner laughter, Dawson watched Freddy's face growredder and redder as the desk clerk gave him the fishy eye. Then theclerk went into the manager's office. He came right out, though, yankedopen a desk drawer, and handed a bill to Freddy.
"Now I have got to watch _my_ step, and how!" Dawson chuckled, andwalked over to the mail window.
There was something in the box. It was a telegram addressed to themboth. Dave ripped it open and was reading the message just as FreddyFarmer came over. The wire read:
"Take seven P.M. plane for Washington La Guardia Airport. Report my office War Department on arrival.
COLONEL WELSH"
"And so what?" Dave asked, looking at Freddy Farmer.
"So leave it over, I fancy," the English youth murmured with a frown. "Iwonder what now?"
"You do the guessing; I'm stumped," Dawson said, glancing up quickly asAgents Carter and Hickson came over.
There was a telegram in Agent Carter's hand. Agent Hickson looked asthough he had just lost his last friend.
"So we all take an airplane ride instead, eh?" Agent Carter said, andnodded at the wire in Dawson's hand.
"You too?" Dave questioned.
"Right," Agent Carter replied. "There are four reservations waiting forus at La Guardia."
"Wouldn't you know!" Agent Hickson groaned and shook his head sadly."Wouldn't you know I was nuts to think I could mix pleasure withbusiness!"