f Piccadilly Circus, in London, with his father.
He lay back on the ground again and started thinking about his father in
an effort to forget his thirst. But after no more than five or six
seconds it just wasn't any use. He sat up again and peered around. It
was then he saw the farm house and the sheds about half a mile away.
Smoke was coming from the farm house chimney, and he could see figures
moving about in the yard. Because of the sun in his eyes he couldn't
tell if they were German troops or not. Off to the right he suddenly saw
a moving cloud of dust. He knew at once it was a car traveling along a
road. And presently the car came into view from behind a string of
trees. It traveled up to the farm house and came to a stop. Four
figures climbed out and hurried into the farm house. A faint hope that
had been flowering in Dave died out at once. His straining eyes had made
out the bucket shaped helmets and the tight-fitting field-grey uniforms
of German officers.
Approaching the farm house was out of the question, now. He had hoped
there might just be peasant farmers there, passed by by the Germans. But
that obviously wasn't so. The place was alive with Hitler's soldiers.
Fighting back his momentary defeat, he got slowly to his feet, took a
make-sure look at the sleeping Freddy Farmer, and then crept off into
the woods in search of a brook or a small pond.
Remembering his Boy Scout training, he broke branches off bushes every
now and then so that he would be sure to find his way back to the
sleeping Freddy. As a matter of fact, though, there really wasn't any
need of his doing that. At the end of a quarter of a mile the ground
sloped down into a shallow valley, and there was a small brook trickling
through the middle. With a low cry of joy Dave rushed down to it, flung
himself flat, and buried his face in the icy cold water. Never, never in
all his life had anything felt so good, so completely satisfying as the
coolness of that brook. Cupping his hands he drank until he couldn't
hold another drop. Then tearing off part of his shirt sleeve he used it
to wash his face and his neck. Finally, feeling almost like a new man,
he got up and retraced his steps to his hiding place.
Freddy was awake when he got back, and when the English youth spotted
him a look of fear and utter misery was instantly banished by joyful
relief.
"Phew, what a fright you gave me!" Freddy choked out. "When I woke up I
couldn't remember if
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