"I fancy you'll learn, if the war lasts long enough!" Freddy grunted. "Not that you would have been shot. Only to scare you, and stop you from trying to escape through the windows. However, I don't trust Nazis. Particularly their marksmanship. So sit down and rest, Dave. All we can do is wait."
The two youths dropped back on the straw and stared gloomily off into space. Eventually Freddy broke the silence that had settled over them.
"Do you think that's true about Barker, Dave?" he asked. "I mean, what Comstadt said?"
"I don't know, Freddy," Dave replied with a frown. "Maybe he was lying when he said Barker was dead. Maybe he wasn't. The last look I had at Barker he was out in the clear and well on his way. Of course, though, he might have run into some other Nazi ships that I didn't see. There's one thing, though, that we've got to face, Freddy. Or have you thought of it, too?"
"Barker's pictures not telling British Intelligence anything they want to know?" the English youth replied. "Yes, I've thought of that. And I'm just a little afraid, Dave, that it may be true, even if he does get back to England. I didn't see anything with my own eyes that made any sense. To tell you the truth, I think we could take pictures of this area all day long and not snap a blessed thing except their blasted camouflage stuff."
"That's the way I figure it, too," Dave said in a dejected voice. "So, whether or not Barker got back ... and I sure hope like everything that he did ... I don't think it will make any difference. I mean, it looks like it's up to us, Freddy. You and me, and nobody to help us."
"Yes, I fancy you're right," Freddy murmured. "You don't happen to have an idea what we do next, do you?"
"No," Dave groaned. "The old brain's a blank. I guess we've just got to sit here, and.... No! The heck we have! I'll get us some attention, and I'll get it in a hurry, too. Get over by those rolling doors, Freddy. I got a bright idea."
"You tell it to me, first!" Freddy said and didn't move. "Your last bright idea wasn't so bright, you know."
"But this one is!" Dave cried and pulled a clip of matches from his pocket. "Look! We're not dead, are we? No. They didn't shoot us, did they? No. They just put us on ice in here until they get darn good and ready to do something about it. Well, I'm going to make them get good and ready in a hurry. I'm going to set this straw on fire, pal. You wait. They'll come for us in a hurry."