here. We cracked up on a fighter strip while
bombing with Mustangs. I'm glad you made it safely. When I last saw
you, your P-51 had buried its nose in the ground."

Sim's eyes narrowed sharply. "That crack-up knocked me silly," he said
grimly. "I don't remember much." He put his hand to his head. "I was
nuts for quite a while, I guess. Even now I forget things. Sometimes I
forget what's happened."

"You'll come around," O'Malley said cheerfully.

"They might let us three have this room together," Sim said. "I'd like
to have you fellows around."

"It could be fixed," the Britisher said. "They let us line up about as
we wish. I'll help you fix it. I've been here a couple of months."

Stan went with the R.A.F. man. They located a non-com who told them to
shift around as they pleased. He seemed to know who Stan was and all
about him and O'Malley.

"Ve treat you goot," he said.

As they went back the Britisher said, "Some of these Nazis are beginning
to try to make friends with us. I guess they figure they may need some
friends among the Allies one of these days."

"They certainly will," Stan agreed.

The two boys with Sim gladly moved out and Stan and O'Malley moved in.
They found Sim silent and moody, as though he was brooding over his
capture and captivity. Stan spoke to O'Malley about it out in the hall.

"Sim is in bad shape. He ought to be in the hospital. We'll have to
watch out for him."

"He'll be after comin' around," O'Malley said confidently.

They entered the room and found Sim staring out of a window. Again Stan
was struck by the change in the boy. He seemed to have aged at least ten
years. He turned toward them, then got up and closed the door. He walked
over to a picture on the wall and moved it. Behind it he revealed a
small hole in the paper. He placed his hands to his lips and shook his
head.

Stan moved over and looked closely, then he pressed on the paper. There
was a small cylinder under the paper. He grinned at Sim and O'Malley.
Deftly he slit the paper with his fingernail and removed a strip of it,
revealing a listening device. Taking out his pocketknife he neatly
snipped one of the small wires.

"That will take care of that. Later we'll hook it up again so they won't
be suspicious."

"They listen to all new men everywhere," Sim said. Suddenly he began to
laugh. "But I have fooled them. I have worked out a way for us to
escape."

Stan stared at him. He was not sure Sim was not sti