them. They advanced to meet him. Sim spoke as soon as he was
close.

"We were sent by Hans."

"Goot. Come, I show you," the man answered.

They walked with him to the house and he opened the door. "Quick," he
mumbled. He began pushing them through the door.

There was no need to shove. The boys dived inside and the German closed
the door. He moved to a window and pulled down the blind, then he faced
them. He was a short man with a beefy face. His stomach rolled out over
a wide leather belt.

"I get you clothes," he said gruffly.

Disappearing into another room he returned after a time with an armload
of clothing which he tossed on a table. The boys changed into rough
shirts and dungarees. The clothing was coarse, but it was clean. The
German gathered up their uniforms.

"These I burn," he said and left with them.

"We have to move on at once," Sim said. "This place will be searched
before morning. The Germans are very thorough."

The boys seated themselves and waited. Their host was gone for a long
time. Finally Sim got up.

"I'll go hurry him along," he said. "You stay right here." He left the
room hurriedly.

"Sim is no nut. He has this all worked out," O'Malley said.

"He certainly has," Stan agreed. He got up and moved to the door Sim had
just closed. Opening it gently he went into a dark room. Feeling his way
he moved to another door. He could see a shaft of light under the door.
Halting with his hand on the knob, he listened. Sim was talking with
their underground agent in German. Stan opened the door quickly. The
two men whirled about and faced him.

"I didn't know you spoke German," Stan said.

"You should not be sneaking around," the German said sharply.

"I have always spoken German," Sim answered. "I learned it in school
back home. How did you think I managed to line things up so well if I
didn't know German?"

"We got worried," Stan said. "Thought something might have happened to
you."

"I just wanted to make sure these uniforms were burned," Sim said and
laughed. "German farmers are thrifty people. They hate to burn good wool
cloth, which can't be bought for any price here. These people have only
ersatz cloth."

"We go now," the German said and scowled at Stan.

"Did he burn them?" Stan asked.

"He buried them in his orchard. We don't have time to waste having him
dig them up," Sim answered.

O'Malley had heard the talking and joined them in the kitchen.

"Everybody's here, so