"And the message that went with this?" he asked. "The information it contained?"
Dave swallowed hard and steeled himself. He reached up and tapped a finger on his head.
"In here," he said evenly. "And you can whistle for it. But don't you know what's going on over here?"
"I'm afraid that won't work either, Flight Lieutenant Dawson," the Nazi said in his soft but deadly toned voice. "The spy we caught and sent back to England with our compliments could never have taken this map back with him. He was searched too thoroughly."
"Who says he brought it back?" Dave taunted him. "So you give up? You don't want that clue?"
"Clue?" the German muttered with a frown.
"Sure, clue!" Dave said lightly. "Don't you want to find out how you stumbled? How all the dope about this place dropped into the hands of British Intelligence? All the dope on your new weapon you think is going to make it possible for you to hold the occupied countries no matter how many troops your boss, Hitler, withdraws? Gosh! You're not really surprised, are you? You mean you didn't even guess that British Intelligence was wise to you? Freddy! That's another bet you owe me. My hunch the Nazis were completely in the dark was absolutely right."
"Good grief, yes!" Freddy Farmer gasped. "But I would have been willing to bet anything, Dave! I was sure that they...."
"Silence!" von Peiplow thundered. And for the first time uncontrolled rage showed on his good looking face. "What clue? Tell me, or I'll call in Colonel Comstadt this instant!"
"Call him in, the big ox!" Dave snapped back. "But I'm giving you the clue, anyway. Here it is. Have you got false teeth, General von Peiplow?"