“Anything you say, colonel,” said the old man agreeably and produced a large key from his pouch and fitted it into the lock. There was a slight creaking and the door swung open.
“Young Dixon here wants to escape,” said the colonel.
“It’s all right by me,” replied the sergeant, “though it’s going to be awkward when Colonel Blick asks what happened to him.”
“The lieutenant has a plan,” confided the colonel. “He’s going to overpower you and escape.”
“There’s more to it than just that!” said Kurt. “I’m figuring on swapping uniforms with you. That way I can walk right out through the front gate without anybody being the wiser.”
“That,” said the sergeant, slowly looking down at his sixty-three inch waist, “will take a heap of doing. You’re welcome to try though.”
“Let’s get on with it then,” said Kurt, winding up a roundhouse swing.
“If it’s all the same with you, lieutenant,” said the old sergeant, eyeing Kurt’s rocklike fist nervously, “I’d rather have the colonel do any overpowering that’s got to be done.”
Colonel Harris grinned and walked over to Wetzel.
“Ready?”