"They might let us three have this room together," Sim said. "I'd like to have you fellows around."
"It could be fixed," the Britisher said. "They let us line up about as we wish. I'll help you fix it. I've been here a couple of months."
Stan went with the R.A.F. man. They located a non-com who told them to shift around as they pleased. He seemed to know who Stan was and all about him and O'Malley.
"Ve treat you goot," he said.
As they went back the Britisher said, "Some of these Nazis are beginning to try to make friends with us. I guess they figure they may need some friends among the Allies one of these days."
"They certainly will," Stan agreed.
The two boys with Sim gladly moved out and Stan and O'Malley moved in. They found Sim silent and moody, as though he was brooding over his capture and captivity. Stan spoke to O'Malley about it out in the hall.
"Sim is in bad shape. He ought to be in the hospital. We'll have to watch out for him."
"He'll be after comin' around," O'Malley said confidently.
They entered the room and found Sim staring out of a window. Again Stan was struck by the change in the boy. He seemed to have aged at least ten years. He turned toward them, then got up and closed the door. He walked over to a picture on the wall and moved it. Behind it he revealed a small hole in the paper. He placed his hands to his lips and shook his head.