The afternoon dragged away and mess call sounded after one of the R.A.F. officers had put the men through a stiff drill and a series of sitting-up exercises. After mess Stan and O'Malley went to their room. Sim was not there.
"I didn't see Sim around the mess when we left, wonder where he went?" Stan whispered.
"You worry too much about him," O'Malley answered. "I bet he's snoopin' around gettin' set to get us away."
Stan stretched out on his bunk. They waited for Sim to show up, but he did not come to the room. At eight o'clock Stan began to squirm.
"They've probably nabbed him," he said sourly.
"Sure, an' I'll start working on Hans if they have."
They had been speaking in very low tones. Now Stan spoke louder. "Better be getting ready to go to that lecture."
"Sure," O'Malley agreed.
The boys settled down to wait. O'Malley kept looking at his wrist watch. Stan lay with his eyes closed. He was checking every angle of the strange business. As near as he could gather, things were going badly in Germany. The big crack-up might be near at hand.
At five minutes to nine they heard steps in the hall. They passed down the stairs. Boys from the rooms along the hallway were going to the lecture. Stan got up and disconnected the microphone. O'Malley was pacing about like a caged lion. They heard single footsteps and there was a rap on the door. It opened and Hans stood there.