of Herr Naggel.

"You would listen?" Herr Naggel said slowly.

Stan said nothing. He expected no mercy from the men who had taken him
prisoner. His head was splitting and he felt weak and sick. A thought
stabbed through the pain. They had heard him when his foot slipped. The
man at the radio had called to someone near by. His sky fighter training
had been poor preparation for ground sleuthing, Stan decided.

"We will be gone in a few minutes, and when we go, we will leave a
little comrade with you." Herr Naggel motioned to a large grenade
sitting on the table. As Stan fixed his gaze upon the grenade he
realized that the radioman had gone, and had taken the portable set with
him. Garret was gone, too, and he was alone with Naggel and his two
rats.

Stan made another discovery. He was not bound. Likely the spies had not
had rope or wire to make him fast, or they were sure their heavy Luger
pistols would keep him in his place. Herr Naggel tapped the iron case of
the grenade.

"The little one cannot be kept from exploding once the pin is removed. I
will pull the pin and lock the door." He smiled and his mouth twisted at
the corners.

Stan rose to his feet. He was not so bad off as he had thought. Dizzy,
but not out by any means. He staggered and swayed, putting on as good a
show of grogginess as he could. Herr Naggel seemed to relish watching
him struggle to remain on his feet.

The thing that was pounding away inside Stan's head was the question:
"How long was I out? How much time have I left?" He was not thinking
about the almost certain death that stared him in the face. Naggel
pulled out a big silver watch and looked at it.

"Two o'clock," he muttered. "We must wait fifteen minutes."

Stan almost showed his relief. There was still time! At that moment
someone in the street above began shouting and screaming. Car brakes
ground and there was a crashing noise. The blackout had claimed another
victim of blind driving. Involuntarily the eyes of Herr Naggel and his
men turned toward the door.

Lightning thought brought lightning action to Stan Wilson. It was no
planned or prepared action, just wild, whirlwind action that was
launched in the flicker of an eye-brow.

With one hand Stan clamped down upon Herr Naggel's Luger; he lunged in
close to the squat Nazi. In the same movement he sent a right smashing
across to the jaw of the spy. Herr Naggel let out a gusty grunt and
rocked back on his heels, then went down