“Sure,” O’Malley agreed.
The boys settled down to wait. O’Malley kept looking at his wrist watch. Stan lay with his eyes closed. He was checking every angle of the strange business. As near as he could gather, things were going badly in Germany. The big crack-up might be near at hand.
At five minutes to nine they heard steps in the hall. They passed down the stairs. Boys from the rooms along the hallway were going to the lecture. Stan got up and disconnected the microphone. O’Malley was pacing about like a caged lion. They heard single footsteps and there was a rap on the door. It opened and Hans stood there.
“I am glad you have not yet gone to the lecture,” he said. “Herr General wishes to speak to you. You will come with me.”
Stan looked at O’Malley and O’Malley looked at Stan. Stan spoke smoothly.
“Couldn’t we see the general after the lecture? We’d like very much to hear the colonel.”
“It will not wait. Herr General is a very impatient man.”
There was nothing to do but go with Hans. Stan and O’Malley walked along the hallway with the corporal, keeping a sharp watch for Sim. They did not see him in the hallway or downstairs. Hans took them past the guards at the outer garden gate and across the street to another house. In a small hall room he nodded toward chairs.
“You will be called,” he said, then turned and hurried away.
The outer door was open and the boys could see two sentries standing on the front porch.
“We have to get out o’ here,” O’Malley said.
“Not a chance. There’s no window and those two guards would see us before we got within ten feet of them,” Stan answered. “It’s just a case of sitting tight and hoping Sim waits for us.”
Near where they were sitting a door opened into another room. Stan leaned over and looked at the door. It was not latched firmly and was open about a half inch. He could hear men talking in the other room. They were speaking in German.
“You understand German. Listen to what they are saying,” Stan whispered.
O’Malley moved closer and listened. The men seemed to be arguing hotly. Every once in a while one voice would be raised in anger. There were three men in the room. O’Malley edged the door open a bit more and peeped into the room.
After a bit he straightened and grinned at Stan. “Sure, an’ the general is eatin’ the tails off his staff. Some of ’em seem to think the war is lost. They been tellin’ him the German people are demandin’ peace at any price. I figure he’s goin’ to have one o’ them shot.”
At that moment an orderly came rushing out of the office. He charged past the boys without seeming to see them, and rushed out of the building.
“The general says if this leaks out, the Allies will invade at once. He’s sure mad.” O’Malley laughed softly.
A few minutes passed and the orderly returned with a squad of armed soldiers led by a lieutenant. They stomped past the boys and into the office. When they came out they were marching a captain and a major before them.
Five more minutes passed and the orderly came out. He seemed much agitated.
“You will come now,” he said in husky English.
The boys followed him into the office. Herr General was a burly fellow with a bald head and a narrow chest. He had a monocle screwed into one eye which made him look fierce and tough. He glared at the boys, then snapped an order to the orderly. The man scurried away.
“Come up to my desk, you,” the general snarled.
The boys moved up and stood waiting.
“I have checked the answers you gave to questions asked you when you were captured. You said an invasion will come at once. Why did you say that?”
Stan stared at the officer. “We didn’t say any such thing,” he answered evenly. He decided that the general had heard some of their conversation over the listening device.
“Sure, an’ you got big ears, General,” O’Malley said.
Stan kicked him on the shin. The general jumped and puffed out his chest. He fixed O’Malley with a cold glare.
“Pig! Fool! Keep a civil tongue in your head or you will regret it much.”
“If you brought us here to get information, you will be disappointed, General,” Stan said. “We will not talk.”
“I brought you here to tell you that we intend to make you talk,” the general barked. “I merely wished to warn you and then to let you have a little time to think it over.”
“We are prisoners of war,” Stan reminded him.
“The code provides for disciplining prisoners of war. We have some very effective methods. You will talk and be glad to. Now get out.”
Stan and O’Malley turned toward the door. Two armed men stood waiting for them. They marched out with the guards close behind them.
“Sure, an’ this is a nice mess,” O’Malley grumbled.
“Could be worse,” Stan said.
The guards left them after passing them into the yard of their house. They headed for their room. Passing through the outer hall, they saw that the lecture was still going on in the living room. They went up the stairs.
Stan opened the door and O’Malley shoved into the room close behind him. They stood looking at Sim’s bunk. The straw ticking of the mattress had been slit open and some of the straw was scattered on the floor. Sim was not in the room. Stan walked over to a little table. One small light bulb was flooding the room with light.
“He was here and left in a hurry. He didn’t turn off the light.”
“I’m gettin’ out o’ here,” O’Malley growled.
“Sit down. We’re staying,” Stan said sharply. He pulled off his coat and tossed it across his bunk, then he seated himself on the foot of his bed.
“We’re going to get it in the neck, anyway,” O’Malley scowled.
“Do you know where we are, in what part of Germany?”
“Somewhere near Berlin,” O’Malley said.
“Sure, but where? We need more dope on the grounds and on the country around us. We wouldn’t get a mile from this prison farm if we did break out.”
O’Malley sat down on his bed. “Sure, you’re right. We should have had Sim tell us something about this deal.”
“Now that you mention it, Sim never told us anything,” Stan said.
“Probably didn’t know anything,” O’Malley growled.
They sat looking at each other, waiting, trying to discover some lead that might help them. Finally Stan said:
“We’ll have to clean up that straw and fix Sim’s bed before anyone comes in here snooping around.”
“Yeah,” O’Malley said but he did not move.
CHAPTER VIII
FLIGHT
Stan began cleaning up their room so that the guards checking rooms that night would not notice Sim had gone. He wanted to give Sim as much of a start as possible. While he was brushing the straw under Sim’s bunk the door opened. Both boys turned quickly. In the doorway stood Sim. His lips were parted in a thin smile.
“Sim!” Stan took a step toward the door. “We thought you had gone.”
“Quiet,” Sim whispered. “Come with me.”
He turned and moved out into the hall with Stan and O’Malley at his heels. They walked down the hall and into a corner room. Sim crossed the room and opened a window. They saw a rope dangling over the sill.
Stan peered into the darkness below but could see nothing. “There should be a guard right under this window,” he whispered.
“He has been taken care of,” Sim hissed. “You go down. We will follow.”
“Didn’t you get any guns or grenades?” O’Malley asked.
“No,” Sim answered sharply. “Hurry.”
Stan climbed through the window and slid down the rope. When his feet hit the ground he wiggled the rope. A minute later O’Malley was at his side. Sim arrived within another minute. He caught the boys’ arms and began moving away from the house.