“If it turns out he really is nuts, we may find ourselves messed up with lead,” Stan answered. He got up and walked over to where the R.A.F. boys were pitching quoits.
“Care to get in?” a captain asked him.
“Thanks, I’ll have a try,” Stan answered.
O’Malley stretched out on the bench and went to sleep. He slept through until lunch call was sounded. Stan mixed with the British officers and learned what he could about conditions. He got their names so he could report regarding them if he did get away.
The afternoon dragged away and mess call sounded after one of the R.A.F. officers had put the men through a stiff drill and a series of sitting-up exercises. After mess Stan and O’Malley went to their room. Sim was not there.
“I didn’t see Sim around the mess when we left, wonder where he went?” Stan whispered.
“You worry too much about him,” O’Malley answered. “I bet he’s snoopin’ around gettin’ set to get us away.”
Stan stretched out on his bunk. They waited for Sim to show up, but he did not come to the room. At eight o’clock Stan began to squirm.
“They’ve probably nabbed him,” he said sourly.
“Sure, an’ I’ll start working on Hans if they have.”