“Bah!” Nastee said. “If I needed anything to make me feel completely happy about my new job, this is it.”
“New job?” Ting asked. He looked suspiciously at the sour-pussed little leprechaun. “What new job? I thought there was something funny about your absence. Come on, out with it. What kind of a new job have you got?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Nastee sneered.
“Yes, I would,” Tink said grimly. “And if you don’t open up, I’ll look around for another well to toss you in.”
Nastee wriggled uneasily.
“It’s none of your business,” he said.
“I think I’m going to make it my business,” Tink said.
The young lieutenant turned and brushed his lips across the girl’s soft cheek.
“I think a lot about you, Ann,” he murmured. “I sometimes dream a bit about — later.”
“What sort of dreams?” the girl asked quietly.
“Very silly ones, I guess,” Tom said, with a short laugh. “I dream of this mess ending and me heading back to the United States and finding you just as lovely as you are now waiting—”
“Waiting for what?” the girl asked, and her voice was only a whisper in the room.
“For me,” Tom said. He laughed without humor. “That’s where the dream gets rather silly.”
The girl turned slowly and looked into his eyes, earnestly.
“Not so silly, Tom,” she said softly.
The young lieutenant looked at her for an instant, then he took her in his arms and held her close.
“I can’t believe it,” he murmured, his lips pressed against her hair.
Nastee squirmed and looked away.
“Will I be glad to put an end to that,” he said.
“How are you going to put an end to it?” Tink asked.
“You’re getting nosey again,” Nastee smirked.
The young lieutenant looked down at the girl and smiled.
“I’ll come back, dear,” he said.
“Oh, be careful, Tom,” the girl said anxiously. “I’ll be worrying for you every second.”
“Don’t be a silly little goose,” the lieutenant laughed. “I’ve got nothing to worry about but the gremlins.”
“The gremlins?” Ann laughed. “I’ve heard about them. You don’t take them seriously, do you?”
“Of course not. But the English lads are different. They’ll tell you a thousand stories to prove that there are actually little creatures maliciously tampering with their planes. But it’s just a silly superstition.”
Nastee laughed unpleasantly.
“That’s what you think,” he sneered.
Chapter II
Tink looked searchingly at Nastee.
The ugly, bitter little leprechaun had an expression of unholy triumph on his face that was unsettling. Whenever Nastee looked so gloatingly happy, Tink knew that trouble was brewing.
“What do you mean by that?” he asked. He knew that the humans couldn’t hear their voices, so he didn’t bother to speak softly.
Nastee chuckled.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” he said, hopping to his feet. “And he will too,” he added, pointing one tiny finger at the young lieutenant.
“Nastee!” Tink cried, in a shocked voice. “Have you joined the gremlins?”
Nastee assumed an expression of outraged innocence.
“What a thing to accuse me of?” he cried.
Tink knew from his attitude that he was guilty.
“So you did,” he said grimly.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nastee said haughtily.
“Nastee, you’re lying,” Tink snapped. “You’ve joined the gremlins and you intend to sabotage the lieutenant’s reconnaissance plane, don’t you?”
Nastee turned on him, scowling.
“And supposing I am,” he snarled. “What difference does that make to you?”
Jing looked at him in shocked horror.
“I don’t believe you could be that bad, Nastee,” she said.
“Nastee,” Tink said, “you’re going to get yourself in a lot of trouble if you join the gremlins. You know they’re an unsociable, unreliable, treacherous group of little imps.”
“I like them,” Nastee said. “They’re grouchy all the time. They never laugh or smile. They make people unhappy. They’re wonderful.”
“They sound dreadful,” Jing said.
“How long have you been a member?” Tink asked.
“About three weeks,” Nastee said.
“And you came here about three weeks ago,” Tink said keenly. “You were assigned to this job by the gremlins, weren’t you? You came here in advance to spy on the lieutenant, didn’t you?”
“Sure I did,” Nastee said.
“You ungrateful little imp,” Tink said disgustedly.
Nastee looked angry. His little face was screwed into a frown.
“I don’t care what names you call me,” he said spitefully. “I’ve got a job I like and I’m going to keep it. And I won’t have you two around getting in the way of my work.”
With a last indignant glance he swung over the edge of the easel and slid down one of its legs to the floor. He crossed the floor to the open window and climbed to the ledge. He looked back at them and laughed bitterly. Then he was gone.
“Oh, Tink,” Jing cried, “what are we going to do? This nice young man will be killed if we don’t stop Nastee and the gremlins.” She looked away from Tink to the young girl who was sighing happily in the lieutenant’s arms, and her eyes clouded with tears. “And that would break this poor girl’s heart.”
“I know, I know,” Tink said irritably. “We’ve got to do something, but what?”
“Couldn’t we warn the lieutenant to be on his guard?” Tink suggested hopefully.
Tink shook his head.
“There’s only one thing to do,” he said finally. He swung around and faced Jing. His little eyes were gleaming with determination. “It may be dangerous, but it’s our only chance. Are you game?”
“Oh, yes,” Jing cried.
“We’re going with the lieutenant,” Tink snapped. “We’ll go along as his bodyguard, and I’d just like to see Nastee or the gremlins start anything.”
Jing clapped her hands together excitedly.
“Oh, Tink,” she cried, “you’re wonderful!”
Tink smiled modestly.
“That thought has often occurred to me,” he said...
The London airport from which Lieutenant Tom Diggles was taking off, was a large, dark area, with only a few blue landing lights visible.
Tink and Jing arrived there a few days after they had decided to help the young lieutenant. They had heard nothing of Nastee since that time, and Tink knew in this case, that silence meant trouble.
They found the reconnaissance ship that the lieutenant was flying and went aboard. Tink left Jing in the cabin while he searched the ship. He looked thoroughly, diving into every nook and cranny but he found no evidence of Nastee or the gremlins.
“Everything looks all right,” he said, when he returned to the cabin. “Maybe Nastee gave up his idea.”
“I think we’d better go along, just in case,” Jing said.
They were waiting in the cabin, sitting on a rheostat of the dashboard when Lieutenant Diggles came aboard. He was wearing his heavy, fur-lined leather flying togs and his face was serious as he rapidly checked the instruments.
The plane was a two-engined ship with a large cabin, and a special turret in the top for the cameraman. He arrived a few minutes later, a lanky redhead, carrying a heavy camera under his arm.
“Hi, Tom,” he greeted the pilot.
“Hello, Red,” Tom Diggles smiled. “Got everything you’ll need?”
Red patted his camera affectionately and said, “With this baby I don’t need anything else. If you could manage to fly over Hitler’s mountain resort I’ll tell you what he’s having for breakfast.”