The German reached out one of his big hands and jabbed a desk b.u.t.ton with a thick finger. As though by magic a side door swung open and a German soldier with a Staff Orderly's arm band about his tunic sleeve popped into the room. The officer fired words at him so fast that Dave couldn't catch a single one of them. The orderly saluted and then motioned for Dave and Freddy to walk out ahead of him. When he had closed the door he pointed toward a flight of stairs, and then up. He stopped them on the second landing, pushed open a door and waved them inside. There were two army cots with a blanket for each, a couple of broken chairs, and nothing else. A single window was at the rear of the room and its sill was a good five feet up from the floor. It was thick with dust and cobwebs and looked as if it hadn't been opened in years.

The two boys glanced at the room in dismay. Then the click of the door latch, and the grating sound of a bolt being shot home, spun them both around. Dave leaped for the door and grasped hold of the k.n.o.b. It turned in his hand, but the door refused to open. He gulped and glanced back at Freddy. The English youth's face had paled a bit, but his eyes were grimly defiant.

CHAPTER SIX

_They'll Never Beat Us!_

"Keep the old chin up, Freddy," said Dave. "They can't do anything to us. They wouldn't dare! Don't let it get you, fellow."

Freddy lifted his face and smiled wryly. There was the faintest suggestion of tears in his eyes.

"I'm not afraid of them!" he said scornfully. "I'm mad at myself. I could kick me all around this room. Through my own stupidity I've gone and lost our boys a perfectly good ambulance. That's what I can't get over. I could chew nails when I think of it falling into the hands of the blasted Germans. I'm just no good, Dave."

Dave laughed and doubled up a fist and put it under the other's chin.

"Hey, none of that!" he cried. "You're my pal, and I don't let people say crazy things about my pals. Gee whiz, you were swell downstairs, Freddy. You talked right up to him when I was all the time quaking in my boots. You bet! Don't worry about that ambulance. Maybe we'll get it back. Heck! Maybe we can figure out some way to steal it back."

Bright hope flickered in the English youth's eyes.

"You think so, Dave?" he whispered. "You think there's a chance we might steal it away from them?"

"We can sure try," Dave replied with a vigorous nod. "You just keep everything under control, and.... Sh-h-h! I think somebody's coming up the stairs. Come on, Freddy! Let's not let them get the idea we're worried at all."

"Right-o!" Freddy whispered back and gave Dave's hand a quick squeeze.

"Count on me to hold up my end, Dave!"

Footsteps were now just outside the door. They heard the outside bolt slap back and then the door was pushed open. The German guard stood in the hallway outside. In one hand he carried a battered tray containing food, and tucked under the other arm was a bundle of old clothes. Just behind him stood Colonel Stohl. The big German's face was beaming like a full moon.

"Did you think I had forgotten you, boys?" he boomed and strode into the room. "But of course not. Here is food for you. And take off your clothes and put on these things. I will have what you're wearing mended and cleaned up. So!"

"That's very kind of you, Colonel," Freddy said in a faintly mocking tone. "You're going to be frightfully disappointed, you know."

"Disappointed?" the German officer mumbled and gave him a puzzled look.

"Quite so," Freddy said and started peeling off his dust and dirt caked clothes. "I can a.s.sure you you'll find no secret messages or maps sewed into the lining. No matter what you suspect, we really aren't spies, you know."

The German laughed loudly but there was a look in his eye that did not mean laughter to Dave. The Intelligence officer didn't like the idea of a sixteen year old English boy seeing right through him as though he were made of gla.s.s.

"Why that's ridiculous!" the Colonel cried. "Of course you aren't spies.

I just want to have your clothes cleaned. We Germans take good care of the people we have to protect. You will do well to think of that when you return to your homelands. Now, get into these clean clothes and then eat your food. There, that is better, yes!"

The officer waited until the guard had gathered up the boys' clothes, then he smiled at them and went out the door followed by the guard. Dave and Freddy waited until the bolt was jammed home and then, being half starved, they fell upon the tray of food. The very first mouthful was a delightful surprise to them both. The food was excellent and there was a lot of it. They wolfed it down for a moment or so and then Dave put a restraining hand on Freddy's.

"Wait a minute!" he said in a low voice. "I think this is another part of the trick he thinks he's playing on us."

"What do you mean?" Freddy whispered and stopped eating at once. "Good grief! You think there is something in this food? I once heard a story about the Germans using some kind of a drug that makes a prisoner talk.

But I'm starved, Dave!"

"Me, too," Dave nodded. "I don't mean that. I'm sure the food's okay.

That's the point. It's swell! I bet the troops don't get this kind of food. Look, Freddy! I've got a hunch he wants to make a hit with us.

Feed us up good and then get us to talk about the French and British military units we saw yesterday. You know, they're always after information that will give them a line on what's in front of them."

"Then he is a fool, if he thinks filling my stomach with good food will make me tell him anything!" Freddy snorted in disgust.

"Check and double check for both of us!" Dave agreed. "But here's what I mean. I think we'd be wise not to eat all of this. Let's save some.

This bread, at least. We might need it later, and bad."

"You're right, Dave!" Freddy said, realizing instantly what his American friend had in mind. "When we do escape from here we'll certainly need some food to take along. And I think that's what we'll have to do ...

escape somehow."

Dave nodded but didn't speak. There was a queer feeling inside of him, and the back of his neck was beginning to tingle a little. That was a sure sign with him that there was trouble ahead. And it had proven to be true more than a couple of times during his young life. No, the German colonel wasn't fooling him at all. Perhaps they puzzled the Intelligence officer, but Dave felt pretty sure he didn't really believe they were spies. Yet, you never could tell. One thing seemed certain, however. The German hoped to pump them for what little they could tell him. He was going to keep them prisoners until he was satisfied. And perhaps he would keep them prisoners even after that. This thing worked two ways.

Would the Intelligence officer let them pa.s.s safely through the Belgian lines knowing full well they'd tell the authorities what they'd seen on the German side?

No, that wasn't at all likely, and Dave suddenly didn't feel very hungry. He got up and walked over to the rear window. The sill came only to his chin for he was close to six feet tall, so he could see out without any trouble. That is, after he had wiped away some of the dust and cobwebs. What he saw, however, brought no joy to his heart. The window looked out on a tree studded hill that blocked out everything beyond. Another fine day was well on its way and as Dave screwed his head around so that he could look high up into the blue sky he saw cl.u.s.ter after cl.u.s.ter of planes in line and in V formation. And all of them were moving swiftly westward. By straining his ears he could just barely catch the throbbing beat of German engines. Even as their sound came to him he heard louder and more thunderous sounds farther to the west. He did not need two guesses to know that German bombers were once again dropping their loads of death and destruction upon the soldiers and civilians of the countries Adolf Hitler desired to crush under his iron heel.

He turned from the window and stood staring flint eyed at nothing at all. Yesterday he had reached seventeen years of age. But today? Today he somehow felt a dozen years older than that. What he had seen since leaving Paris had added years to his way of thinking, if not to his body. A fierce anger at the injustices wrought had sprung up within him.

He wanted to do something about it. What, he did not know. But today there had been born in him a blazing desire to do what he could to spare Europe, and perhaps the whole world, from the bullets and bombs and the tyranny of the n.a.z.i legions.

"What are you thinking of, Dave?"

Freddy's quiet voice at his elbow jerked him from his thought trance. He turned and stared into the clear blue eyes of his new found friend and ally in the face of danger.

"A lot of things, Freddy," he said. "Maybe I'm crazy, but I want nothing better than the chance to do something. A chance to get back at these Germans for what I've seen them do. We may be kids and not old enough to enlist, Freddy, but there must be _something_ we can do to help. And, believe me, I sure want to do it. Listen, Freddy, have you any idea where we are? I've never been in Belgium in my life. And I guess this is still Belgium, isn't it?"

"Yes, I could tell from the looks of the buildings, and some of the townsfolk I saw when we arrived," the English youth said. "But what town this is, I haven't the faintest idea. I ... Wait!"

"What's the matter?" Dave asked.

"That map in the colonel's office downstairs!" Freddy whispered excitedly. "Did you see it, and see how it was marked with those little pins and tiny flags?"

"Sure, I saw it," Dave said with a nod. "But I didn't pay much attention to it."

"Nor I," Freddy said. "But I'll bet you something, Dave. This is an Intelligence headquarters, and I'll bet those little pins and flags mark the points of advance by the German forces. Do you see what I mean, Dave? If we could get a good look at that map, and remember some of the things it tells, and then get away from here, why...."

The English youth stopped. He was shaking too much from eager excitement to continue. Dave nodded and gripped him by both arms.

"You're right, Freddy!" he whispered. "It might help a lot if we could tell the Allied commanders where some of the German units are, and what places they seem to be heading for. Let me think. How in heck can we get another look at that map?"

"We could pound on the door," Freddy said, "and tell him we're willing to tell all that we know, if he'll let us go. He'd probably take us down to his office to hear what we have to say."

"Maybe," Dave said with a frown. "But I think it's a little too soon to make him think we're scared and giving in. And, besides, he may not be tricking us. Maybe he really is going to just check on us and then let us go."

"Let us go back and tell what we've seen behind the German lines?"

Freddy scoffed. "Not a bit of it, Dave. You must be off your topper!"