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Moving down the path Stan kept a sharp watch for guards. The pathway was really a tunnel under the trees. Overlapping branches formed a natural roof. This cover made the path almost pitch-dark. But Stan moved swiftly. He wanted enough light to spot the prison where the boys were being held.

Reaching the opening in the hedge he discovered that someone had moved the branches of the hedge row so that they entwined over the opening hiding it. Standing behind the hedge he listened. Judging by the sounds, there was plenty of activity in the camp, and Stan could see lights shining through the wall of leaves. A motorcycle roared and a truck motor joined it. Men’s voices could be heard clearly.

Moving along the hedge Stan peered over it. He could see into the wide yard of the villa and also into the yards around the barns. Every building was lighted up and the place swarmed with Germans. Stan had never seen so many German officers in a single spot before. Groups of them sat around outdoor tables in the back yard of the villa. They were eating and drinking wine from the Bolero cellars. There was a lot of shouting and laughter.

Stan turned to the barns. He moved along them until he could see the back yard of the big barn. Here there were a number of smaller sheds and barns as well as the kennels. All of them were lighted and so were the yards around them. Guards marched back and forth in front of the kennels and before three of the sheds. Stan was certain he had located the prisons, but there was no way of telling which one contained his pals. One thing was certain, the Germans felt safe here at Bolero Villa. They probably figured Allied bombers would think the place was Italian and leave it alone. The many trees hid the trucks, cars, and German soldiers from view. Stan grinned. When he got back, the bomber boys would know where to drop a stick of bombs.

This condition made it easy for Stan to observe because the guards figured their only job was to keep the prisoners from escaping. They were not worried about an attack. Moving around behind the kennels Stan found darkness. He managed to wiggle up to the back wall. There were no windows in the back of the shed. He checked the other guarded sheds and found no windows in the rear of them. Moving back to the hedge he crouched there watching the three buildings.

The only way to get into any of those buildings was through the doors or one of the front windows. The windows were open and not barred, but at least a dozen guards patrolled the grounds. They were scattered out, making a blitz machine-gun attack difficult. By the time Stan had blasted the guards out of the way he would have several hundred officers and men attacking from the grounds below.

A soldier approached one of the guards, spoke to him, then entered one of the buildings, a shed between the kennels and the third barn. A light flashed on and Stan could see men inside the building. They were packed in, standing close together, those he could see through the window. All of them were Italian soldiers.

After a bit the soldier came out with an Italian officer walking ahead of him. They went directly to the grounds below. Stan eased along the hedge until he was opposite the kennels. Here he halted and parted the branches of the hedge. He listened intently. The prisoners in the kennels were talking but their voices were very low. One of them laughed and the guard at the door shouted an order in German. With the butt of his rifle he hammered against the sill. There was silence inside and then a voice called out:

“Get away from that door, ye dirty spalpeen! Yer disturbin’ the pleasure o’ gentlemen!”

Stan almost shouted. That was the voice of O’Malley. The guard beat harder upon the sill of the door and shouted louder. Stan heard Allison warning O’Malley to keep his mouth shut. Silence settled inside the building.

Pulling out his sheath knife Stan began cutting a hole in the hedge. The hedge had been carefully tended by the Bolero gardener. The limbs of the shrubs had been entwined and laced together, making the hedge almost a solid wall. Stan cut away a large hole, leaving only a few branches over the inside to hide his work. Getting down he crawled into the opening.

The guard was standing facing the spot where Stan was crouching. A floodlight in the yard made the whole place as light as day. Stan watched the other guards as they moved about. Under a tree at the entrance to the yard a heavy machine gun had been planted. A crew of three men manned the gun. It was set to cover the three jails and the whole yard.

The situation looked hopeless. With so much light an attack could not be engineered. Suddenly Stan’s lips pulled into a straight line. He had a bright thought. The yards and grounds had never been lighted up so completely by the Bolero family. That meant the Germans had strung a lot of wire. If he could locate the main line and cut it, he could plunge the place in darkness long enough to break into the shed where his pals were being held.

After studying the yard and the lighting, Stan decided the wires came in from the big barn. Working his way around the sheds he came to a spot where a wide and well-lighted roadway separated them from the big barn. Four Germans guarded the road and they were well spaced. Again he was blocked.

Then he noticed that a set of heavy wires came down from somewhere in the darkness to the corner of the big barn. They swung in from high above his head. Stan grinned. The electricity for the whole villa came in from behind the barns. It was like General Bolero to have unsightly power poles at the back of his estate. Stan turned and headed into the woods. He was looking for a power line pole.

The job of locating a pole among a forest of trees was not easy, but Stan had the general location from the run of the lines. After a few minutes of hunting he located the pole and got set to climb it. He stacked his things at the base of the pole. He would have to slide down in a hurry and dash to the attack. He hoped there would be plenty of confusion. He also hoped the lead-in wires were insulated. The line was at least 220-volt, because there were three wires leading to the barn.

Climbing up the pole Stan came to a transformer. Gingerly he tested one of the wires with the hard rubber handle of his knife. Nothing happened, so he started sawing away. He was not shorted by any part of the transformer or any wire he might be touching in the darkness. The wire was thick and heavy but it was copper and his sharp knife bit into it. With a tug Stan severed the heavy wire and felt it go twisting away into the darkness, which had suddenly become very black because all of the lights in and around the villa had snapped off.

Stan almost fell down the pole. He heard shouting and bellowing from the yard. Shots were fired and flashlights began to stab back and forth. Stan grabbed his machine gun and leaped into the road leading to the small barns. Suddenly the machine gun under the tree opened up. The Germans knew a prison delivery attempt was on. Stan halted and pulled a grenade from the sack slung over his shoulder. Jerking the pin, he tossed it just as he had often tossed a forward pass in a football game.

A sharp roar and a flash of fire told him the grenade had gone off, and the sudden ceasing of the staccato voice of the machine gun told him he had scored a hit. He did not have time to look as he charged toward the kennels. He ran into a German and knocked the soldier down with the barrel of his machine gun. Reaching the door he came to grips with three Germans. They had an electric lantern and they spotted him closing in, but not quick enough. Stan’s tommy-gun blasted them off the wide stone flagging before the door.

“Hi, Allison! O’Malley!” Stan hit the door with his shoulder in a leaping dive. He went crashing into the room with the door draped around him.

“Stan!” O’Malley roared from the darkness.

“Here! Get close to me and follow me!” Stan shouted as he staggered to his feet.