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I remember, too, hearing Hank gasp, "Judas priest German spies!" just
before his lanky length toppled under the impact of an accurately
wielded blackjack. And I remember my last conscious thought: that when
I got a chance I must offer an apology to sour-puss Grimper. Because
that thin, hawk-nosed stencil of superiority-plus was what-ever else
his faults a bang-up fighting man in a pinch! With a fury incredible
in one his size and build, he was laying about him like a demon. One
Heinie was peacefully slumbering at his ankles already, a second was
bawling for assistance.
Then three, or four, or a thousand of them rushed me at the same time.
I remember something playing "Heavy, heavy what hangs over your head?"
above my cranium then that's all I do remember. A bomb exploded in my
cerebrum and I went to beddy-bye.
I had a nice little dream, then. I dreamed I was in Spain during the
Inquisition, and a black-robed priest had me fastened to a windlass.
As he murmured pious paternosters in my ears, he was gently screwing
the instrument tighter, and I was gasping with pain as my arms slowly,
grindingly, withdrew from their sockets.
I wriggled, emitting a muffled howl, and awakened to find the dream
based on cold, brutal fact! My mouth was full of cotton waste slightly
the worse for wear explaining my muffled tones. My arms were tied
together with a short scrap of hemp; this length had been passed
through the draw-chain of a skylight, and thus, securely locked, I hung
dangling like a pendulum with my toes barely scraping the floor.
Nor was I the only trussed duck in this tableau. My pal Hank was
swinging from another skylight chain a few yards away, while Grimper
made it three-on-a-ratch. The government agent was the luckiest of us
all. He was out cold, and so he didn't have to listen as did Cleaver
and I to the gleeful chucklings of the saboteurs.
And chuckling they were, like the hooded villains in a Victorian
meller-drammer. Apparently one or two thousand of them had gone home,
because there were now only a half dozen, but these six were the
nastiest looking Nazis I ever hope not to see again. Beetle-browed
thugs, fine examples of the pure Aryanism Herr Shickelgruber is always
bragging on.
They had been rifling the plant as we happened in, I guess, because the
floors were strewn with a litter of papers and blueprints, diagrams,
schematics, formulae. As my bleary eyes opened, one of the foragers was
complaining to the chief rascal:
" nothing here, Schlegel. This has a search of no value been."
"And you," I piped up rather feebly, "a nest of rats are! What's the
big idea? Untie us, or "
The ringleader turned, grinning unpleasantly. "Or," he sneered, "what
schweinhund? So, Karl, nothing we can use there is here? Very well;
it matters not. When we leave, we shall the plant make useless to the
verdammt Amerikanisch."
He called to others of his cohorts, scattered around the room. "You are
ready? When I give the word ignite!"
Polecat No. 2 jerked a dirty thumb in our direction.
"And how about them, Schlegel?"
Schlegel's grin would have congealed hot toddy.
"We leave them here."
"Of course, but " The other man fingered a blunt-nosed automatic
hopefully "would it not be safer to?"
"Nein!" chuckled Schlegel boastfully. "We shall not make bulletholes
in their carcasses. That the cleverest part of my plan is. That is why
we tied them thus. The same fire that destroys them will devour the
ropes around their wrists, dropping their bodies to the floor, leaving
no evidence. The investigators will believe they started the fire,
and so will not search further for us."
He laughed coarsely and poked me in the ribs. "That amusing is, nichts
wahr, mein Freund?"
"Yeah," I answered grimly. "It's a howl. Just like kidnapping Polish
girls and executing innocent hostages. You filthy " I wrestled
savagely with my bonds, but my efforts just sent lancets of pain
burning through my already groaning armpits. I glanced at Hank, but
he was still hanging quietly from his chain, his eyes closed, his
head loud forward upon his chest. He, like Grimper, was blissfully
unconscious.
Now came an end to the German's taunts. He swung to his aides, rapped
swift commands. Matches scratched, flared, were thrust instantly into
heaps of piled rubble. Tongues of flame rose, wavering; strengthened;
licked hungrily higher as the inflammable material ignited.
For the first time, a sense of real fear filled me. Up till this moment
the whole affair had seemed so fantastic, so maddeningly unreal, that
it had been a sort of wild dream. Now I realized belatedly, suddenly,
completely, that this was really happening to me, here in the heart
of the U.S.A. This was War! We had met the enemy in battle and had