"But what can we tell you?" he cried, stalling for time. "What do you want to know? The location of the bombers? Heck! I haven't the faintest idea where they are now."
"I either!" Freddy snapped at him. "Why don't you go up and hunt for them? We've got other things to do. Something very important."
Dave shot a quick side glance at Freddy, and wondered if he, too, had gone nuts. The English youth was practically begging the Nazi to jump on them and beat out truthful answers. Freddy was just plain baiting the madman into action. Yet, looking at Freddy's face, Dave saw only a look of restrained impatience. Colonel Comstadt saw the look, too, and it puzzled him more than added to his rage.
"What do you say?" he demanded. "You have something very important to do?"
"Oh, quite," Freddy murmured, and calmly brushed some dirt off his flying suit.
Colonel Comstadt choked on something unintelligible, then thrust out a hand and took a bear's paw grip on the English youth's shoulder.
"Speak up, swine!" he roared. "What is this important thing you have to do? Speak, at once!"
Pain showed in Freddy's face, but he squared his jaw and looked the Nazi straight in the eye.
"I'll answer that question to your superior," he said with an effort. "To the man who gave you your orders. And, now, let go of my shoulder, please!"
The Nazi was so jolted that he actually did release his grip on Freddy's shoulder, and dropped his hand to his side. For a full ten seconds he gaped wide eyed at the English youth as though he were somebody from another world. Then suddenly he shook himself and thrust his big flat face close to Freddy's.