When Stan opened his eyes he was sitting in a chair with his head hanging on one side. He shook his head and groaned, then focused his gaze upon the leering face 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.