“Liars,” he accused. “We waste no more time with you.”
He spoke in a smooth flow of Japanese to the noncoms, then turned about and got into the car.
Stan stared at the new Chrysler. The Japs had not been able to import any of that model of American cars. His mind was working fast. Allison kicked him and mumbled:
“If we’re to make a try for it, we’ll have to do so as soon as that car pulls out.”
Stan nodded. “We’ll dive for the brush.”
The car rolled away and was swallowed by the jungle. The Japanese officer turned to them.
“Get up,” he commanded. “You may use your handkerchiefs to put over your eyes. We waste no more time. My men are good shots, however.” He sneered, exposing huge buckteeth.
Stan and Allison sprang to their feet, backing up on each side of the tree.
“Step forward and place the blindfold,” the officer snapped.
“We don’t want any blindfolds. We can face you rats,” Stan retorted. He shot a glance at Allison.