“After a week or so the wives will get so sick of having them underfoot all day that they’ll turn the heat on him. Blick has six kids himself, and I’ve a hunch his wife won’t be any happier than the rest. She’s a very determined woman, Kurt, a very determined woman!”
Kurt had a feeling he was getting no place rapidly. “Please, sir,” he said earnestly, “I’ve got a plan.”
“Yes?”
“Just before the guard makes his evening check-in, stretch out on the bed and start moaning. I’ll yell that you’re dying and when he comes in to check, I’ll jump him!”
“You’ll do no such thing!” said the colonel sternly. “Sergeant Wetzel is an old friend of mine. Can’t you get it through your thick head that I don’t want to escape. When you’ve held command as long as I have, you’ll welcome a chance for a little peace and quiet. I know Blick inside out, and I’m not worried about him. But, if you’ve got your heart set on escaping, I suppose there’s no particular reason why you shouldn’t. Do it the easy way though. Like this.” He walked to the bars that fronted the cell and bellowed, “Sergeant Wetzel! Sergeant Wetzel!”
“Coming, sir!” called a voice from down the corridor. There was a shuffle of running feet and a gray scalp-locked and extremely portly sergeant puffed into view.
“What will it be, sir?” he asked.
“Colonel Blick or any of the staff around?” questioned the colonel.
“No, sir,” said the sergeant. “They’re all upstairs celebrating.”
“Good!” said Harris. “Unlock the door, will you?”