“Do as I say, and get Colonel Holt. Tell him to pick me up here at once. Even if he has to come himself. I’m about to be grabbed by a plain-clothes man. But I’ll be at British Intelligence here at Ramsgate.”
The Intelligence man was in the door of the booth. “That will be enough talk,” he said gruffly. “Any other messages you have I’ll send for you.” He reached over and hung up the phone before Stan could say another word.
“Listen, Officer. Take me back to the Intelligence Office,” Stan said. “My commander will call for me there.”
“You are acting very strangely, my man. Why didn’t you make this call from the office? It could have been checked there.” The officer laid a big hand on Stan’s arm.
“I’ll make one from there,” Stan said. “I’ll admit I should have put this one through from your office, but I did not know I was to be followed and I didn’t stop to think how I would look in these clothes.”
“I have orders to handle this myself in case you showed any suspicious actions. I think you have acted plenty suspicious. I’m taking you to the London office. We’ll have to check this call you just made and get you identified.”
“I can’t waste all that time,” Stan protested. “I have to get out to my outfit.”
The officer smiled. “I think I’ve landed one of the boys we’re after. We have had a tip that the Germans have planted a group of the smoothest men they have over here. So far we haven’t been able to put a hand on a single man of them. But you fit the picture neatly.”
“Why?” Stan asked.
“Well, you are an escaped pilot. That’s the way they have been coming in. They are always able to slip through because they know all about the outfit they were supposed to have been with. They’re even supposed to look exactly like the officers lost over Germany.” The officer laughed. “The more I look at you, the more convinced I am that we’ve landed one of them at last. Come along.”