"You'd best act as commander," O'Malley said. "I might plant a fist on the nose o' one o' their generals."
"I say, that's a fine idea," Allison agreed. "Stan, you are in command."
It was natural for them to turn to Stan. He had always been the most level-headed of the three in tight spots. He grinned at them.
"We'll see who they pick," he answered. "But we don't talk."
A few minutes later the junior officer who spoke English appeared. He shoved past the guard and stood at the barred door. The two Italian prisoners stopped talking at once. The boys did not get up from their bench. They returned the stare of the officer. His eyes moved over them and paused on Stan.
"Are you in command?"
"I am in command," Stan answered.
"Come with me. The colonel is very reasonable. If you are not pig-headed you may be treated as prisoners of war."
Stan got to his feet. One of the Italians had risen. He looked at Stan closely. Suddenly Stan turned back to his pals and bent close to them. In a whisper he said:
"Be careful. I just got the idea those Italians may be planted in here to listen to what we say."