But that's as far as he could get.
"Quite all right, Dave!" his pal cut him off quickly. "Our chaps warming up the engines as arranged. We'd better put on a bit of speed. Mustn't keep them waiting."
Dave knew that he was prodding his prisoner across the space of open ground at an increased rate. He knew that Freddy and von Staube were speeding up also. He knew that they reached the shelter of the trees without incident of any kind. But they were all bits of snap realization that flipped through his brain. What filled his brain most was a great dawning light which had burst on him at Freddy Farmer's words. Those engines revving up were the Dornier's, of course! And Freddy knew it! He expected it! And—and he had arranged it. But how? Holy smoke! That Luftwaffe pilot he had herded out into the hall? But Freddy certainly hadn't sent that Jerry pilot over to start up the Dornier's engines and get them warm. Freddy had said the Luftwaffe Captain was "sleeping" in the hallway. So—?
The thought was ended right then and there for Dave. At that exact instant there came a roar of anger and blazing rage from around in front of the H.Q. building they had just quit. The roar came a split second after a crashing sound, a crashing and splintering that made Dave's heart quiver and then freeze up solid. He didn't know the true facts, but his guess was good enough for him.
Some of the Germans, maybe an arriving high ranker, had tried the H.Q. front door and found it locked. So the door had been smashed in and Germans knew now that von Staube and von Gault had been swiped right from under their noses. And if they didn't know the exact details, they would as soon as they had ungagged and revived those inside the place. It was the way it always happened! The gods had to have their laugh. Freedom and success were almost within hands' reach, and now suddenly everything seemed about to be wiped clean from the slate.
"Get speed out of that slob, Freddy!" Dave barked, and gave his own prisoner a vicious jab. "Jig's up. Speed's the only thing. Get that slob going, or slice him up. No time to waste words, now!"
Freddy Farmer didn't reply. He simply went into action. His needle pointed knife drew blood from von Staube's back. Perhaps the German's courage returned for a moment. Perhaps he was actually going to turn and throw his wrist-bound body at Freddy, perhaps even cry out. But the knife digging into his back was the breaking of the last straw. The big fat hulk gurgled out a moan of pain, and then tripped and went sprawling to the ground in a dead faint. Unable to check himself or his own prisoner, Dave and von Gault plowed into the pair in front, and everybody went sprawling.
And behind them in the shadows German voices screamed out commands to each other, and the fading night was filled with the snarl and crackle of random gunfire!