the
guard was changed and they tried their trick on the new man. He was less
interested than the first one. He turned his back on them and let them
whisper. The boys gave it up and sat down to wait.

They dozed off after a time. O'Malley stretched out on the floor and
went to sleep. Stan and Allison remained on the bench, leaning back
against the wall. The clatter of trucks and shouting of soldiers wakened
them. Daylight was breaking and the camp seemed to be getting set for
some sort of action. Presently the young officer appeared. He glared at
the three Yanks.

"Are you ready to talk?" he demanded.

"No," Stan answered. The others shook their heads.

"In that case I will waste no time. You will be shot within the hour."
He turned to the Italian prisoners and spoke in German to one of them.
His words were harsh and his attitude showed he had no respect for the
men.

One of the prisoners answered in German. His words were angry and he
was defiant. Suddenly Allison stepped forward.

"I say, old man," he addressed the officer. "I've changed my mind. There
is some information I could give the colonel."

"Come along then," the officer snapped. He shot a few words at the
Italians as he motioned for the guard to open the door.

Stan grabbed Allison's arm. "You can't do it, fellow," he said.

Allison turned on him. "You may want to die and become a hero, but I'd
rather be a live war prisoner. I say, get your hands off me."

Stan started to pull Allison back. With a quick movement Allison planted
a fist on Stan's jaw. It was a hard right cross and set Stan back on his
heels.

The officer laughed loudly. "Now you are acting quite as you should, you
swine."

"Let me get a crack at him," O'Malley howled. "The traitor!"

He was blocked by the bayonet of the guard. Allison walked out of the
cell. He paused and looked back. There was a mocking leer on his lips.

"Good-by, saps," he said.

Stan slumped down on the bench. O'Malley marched up and down fuming and
ranting. Twenty minutes passed and a soldier came to the cell. He
escorted the Italians out of the room. Stan got to his feet and walked
to the door. He was attracted by marching feet on the gravel outside.

Looking out he saw a squad of men with rifles. The squad leader halted
them and faced them toward a wall. Their rifle butts hit the gravel and
they stood rigid, with their backs to the cell door. Stan noticed that
mortar had been knocked from the surface