"Nein!" chuckled Schlegel boastfully. "We shall not make bulletholes in their carcasses. That the cleverest part of my plan is. That is why we tied them thus. The same fire that destroys them will devour the ropes around their wrists, dropping their bodies to the floor, leaving no evidence. The investigators will believe they started the fire, and so will not search further for us."
He laughed coarsely and poked me in the ribs. "That amusing is, nichts wahr, mein Freund?"
"Yeah," I answered grimly. "It's a howl. Just like kidnapping Polish girls and executing innocent hostages. You filthy—" I wrestled savagely with my bonds, but my efforts just sent lancets of pain burning through my already groaning armpits. I glanced at Hank, but he was still hanging quietly from his chain, his eyes closed, his head loud forward upon his chest. He, like Grimper, was blissfully unconscious.
Now came an end to the German's taunts. He swung to his aides, rapped swift commands. Matches scratched, flared, were thrust instantly into heaps of piled rubble. Tongues of flame rose, wavering; strengthened; licked hungrily higher as the inflammable material ignited.
For the first time, a sense of real fear filled me. Up till this moment the whole affair had seemed so fantastic, so maddeningly unreal, that it had been a sort of wild dream. Now I realized belatedly, suddenly, completely, that this was really happening to me, here in the heart of the U.S.A. This was War! We had met the enemy in battle—and had lost!
Horsesense Hank was suspended over the blazing debris.