_The Voice of Death_
Colonel Comstadt, and the three other pilots of his four plane group,
walked up to within a few yards of the two boys. There the big man
halted, rested his big hands on his hips and stared at them out of eyes
that were like two smouldering coals of fire. Then suddenly his thick
lips curled back over his teeth in a sneer.
"Two little boys!" he boomed out in his native tongue. "_Himmel!_ Just
two little boys. I thought England had _men_ in her army!"
"She has!" Dave shot back at him. "Try to invade England any time, and
you'll find out!"
Thunder heads showed in the German's face for a moment. Then he laughed
harshly and jabbed a big finger at Dave.
"American, eh?" he roared. "Ah, yes! You must be this Dawson swine I've
heard tell about. Am I right?"
"Take five points for it," Dave said. "Who cares?"
"What?" the Luftwaffe morale builder bellowed. "What kind of talk is
that?"
"I give up," Dave said. "What kind?"
The Nazi looked both puzzled and angry. The look he gave Dave made the
young Yank regret just a little that he had spoken in that manner.
"So, you would make a joke of it, eh?" the Nazi suddenly roared. "I
advise you not to. I can crush an infant like you with one hand. What
were you three doing over here?"
"Three?" Freddy spoke up before Dave could open his mouth. "What three?
There's only the two of us."
"I can see that!" the Gestapo Colonel snarled. "I have eyes, you little
fool. There was a third plane. The one that _tried_ to get away. What
were you doing over here, eh?"
Dave's heart skipped a beat. The one that _tried_ to get away? Did that
mean Barker had been caught and shot down?
"Oh, him?" Dave echoed and forced a grin to his lips. "He not only
tried to get away, he _did_ get away. Too bad for you. He was the
important man in the patrol."
"So?" the German said with a slow smile. "The important man of your
little patrol, eh? Then it is too bad for the ones who sent you out
here. He will never return to England. He is dead, the swine!"
"You're a cockeyed liar!" Dave shouted at him with more conviction
than he felt. "He left you birds fanning thin air, and he's well over
England by now."
The German regarded Dave as though he were some strange species of
something or other. Then his big body shook with silent laughter.
"You Americans are a stupid people," he finally said. "You have no
sense. You do not realize that you are asking for punishment every time
you open your dirty mouths. You have to be taught a lesson, _always_!"
As the man shouted the last his big hand flashed out with the speed
of a striking cobra. Dave didn't even see it coming. He only felt the
stunning blow on the side of his head. And the next thing he knew he
was flat on his back on the ground, blinking goggle eyed up at the sky.
The toe of a boot dug into his ribs.
"Get up, infant swine!" he heard the voice of Colonel Comstadt. "I
hardly touched you. So you are the American, Dawson, I have heard
about? Bah! You haven't the strength of a chicken. Get up!"
Dave got shakily up onto his feet. Red fire was sweeping through his
brain, and white fury was boiling up in his chest. He had just enough
sense left, though, to refrain from hurling himself at the big hulk
of a Nazi. You can't chop down an oak tree with a straw, and Dave had
enough sense to realize it. However, as he met the Nazi's leering gaze
he made a silent promise to himself that if the chance ever came...!
"Now, let that teach you to behave, and answer my questions!" Colonel
Comstadt growled. "So! What were you three pilots doing over here?"
Dave didn't attempt to answer. A hunch he had had for some time was
growing stronger and stronger. Was the reason the Nazis didn't shoot,
when they had the chance, because they wondered what Freddy, Barker,
and he were doing over the area? They really _didn't know_, or even
suspect?
If that were true then there was even greater hope that he and Freddy
might get out of this jam. As long as they kept the Germans wondering
and guessing the longer the Germans would keep them alive. There was
one thing the war had proved about the Nazi breed. They never threw
away a man's life until they had drained the last drop of usefulness
from his body. And that went double for espionage agents they caught in
their traps.
"We were on patrol," Dave answered the question aloud. "We were on our
way to contact some of our bombers."
"That's perfectly true," Freddy spoke up, instantly catching onto
Dave's line of thought. "What other reason, for heaven's sake? And why
such a lot of you chaps? You certainly do believe in superior numbers,
don't you? But, then, you must have learned many startling things about
the Royal Air Force, eh?"
The Nazi acted as though he had not heard. He ignored the English
youth, and kept his gaze fixed on Dave. When he spoke his voice was
surprisingly soft. Yet there was a deadly undertone to it.
"You have perhaps heard of Colonel Comstadt?" he asked. "You have
perhaps heard of him?"
Dave plucked at his lower lip and screwed up his face in a gesture of
deep thought.
"Comstadt?" he mumbled. "Comstadt? No. I can't say that I've heard of
him. Who is he? Hitler's valet, or something?"
The German turned purple with rage, and for a second or two Dave feared
that the man was actually going to explode in a shower of small pieces.
It was a full minute before the Nazi seemed able to find his tongue.
He jerked up a clenched fist, and Dave instantly set himself to duck.
No blow was struck at him, however. Instead, Colonel Comstadt beat his
fist against his own chest.
"_I_ am Colonel Comstadt!" he thundered. "I am second in command of the
Gestapo. In the hollow of my hand I hold the lives of thousands. I have
but to close my hand, and they are no more. So, you have never heard of
Colonel Comstadt, eh?"
"No, never," Dave lied with a straight face.
The German looked even more disappointed. He actually looked as if he
were going to break down and cry. The expression on the man's face,
however, struck no funny note in either Dave or Freddy. On the contrary
it struck a very chilling note. It was like a file being drawn across
their taut nerves. One thing was now definitely sure in their minds.
Colonel Comstadt was a madman! He was absolutely insane. Clever,
cunning, a great credit to Adolf Hitler, but definitely a crazy man.
"Well, then I will tell you about Colonel Comstadt," the Nazi suddenly
said in a friendly and engaging voice. "He has done many great things
for Der Fuehrer, and he will do many more. That is as sure as the
stars that shine by night, and the sun that shines by day. How, you
ask? How has Colonel Comstadt been able to do so much? It is simple.
Very simple. I know many ways to make men talk. And when you make a
man talk, you learn many things. You understand me, eh? I ask you a
question, and you give me a foolish answer. Very well, then. There are
many ways to make you talk. And not one of them will be pleasant _for
you_!"
The Nazi finished talking with a curt nod of his head, and then smiled
in cunning triumph.
"You see?" he murmured. "You understand perhaps now, eh? You are not
men. You are mere babies. I could break you both with the fingers of
one hand. Well?"
Dave looked at those big hands and gulped inwardly. He imagined them at
his throat, or breaking off an arm, and gulped again.
"But what can we tell you?" he cried, stalling for time. "What do you
want to know? The location of the bombers? Heck! I haven't the faintest
idea where they are now."
"I either!" Freddy snapped at him. "Why don't you go up and hunt for
them? We've got other things to do. Something very important."
Dave shot a quick side glance at Freddy, and wondered if he, too, had
gone nuts. The English youth was practically begging the Nazi to jump
on them and beat out truthful answers. Freddy was just plain baiting
the madman into action. Yet, looking at Freddy's face, Dave saw only a
look of restrained impatience. Colonel Comstadt saw the look, too, and
it puzzled him more than added to his rage.
"What do you say?" he demanded. "You have something very important to
do?"
"Oh, quite," Freddy murmured, and calmly brushed some dirt off his
flying suit.
Colonel Comstadt choked on something unintelligible, then thrust out a
hand and took a bear's paw grip on the English youth's shoulder.
"Speak up, swine!" he roared. "What is this important thing you have to
do? Speak, at once!"
Pain showed in Freddy's face, but he squared his jaw and looked the
Nazi straight in the eye.
"I'll answer that question to your superior," he said with an effort.
"To the man who gave you your orders. And, now, let go of my shoulder,
please!"
The Nazi was so jolted that he actually did release his grip on
Freddy's shoulder, and dropped his hand to his side. For a full ten
seconds he gaped wide eyed at the English youth as though he were
somebody from another world. Then suddenly he shook himself and thrust
his big flat face close to Freddy's.
"My superior?" he bellowed. "What do you mean?"
"You know as well as I do!" the English youth shouted back at him.
"_Your_ superior! General von Peiplow, of course. And, you great big
over stuffed ox, you'd better take us to him at once. He may tell
Hitler on you, and then where'll you be?"
The Nazi choked, sputtered, and tried furiously to get words out of his
mouth. When they did come, they came like flood waters pouring over a
broken dam.
"You insolent swine!" he raged. "You English dog. I'll teach you to
hold your tongue!"
"Freddy, look out!" Dave screamed.
It was too late. The Nazi hit Freddy on the side of the head and sent
him spinning across the ground. White fire exploded in Dave's brain
and blew common sense to the four winds. He dived forward and swung
his fist for the German's jaw with every bit of his strength behind
the blow. He felt his hand connect, and it felt like crashing his fist
against the side of a brick building. And then the whole world exploded
in shattering sounds about his ears. He heard the bellow that came
from the Nazi's lips, and then he had the flashing impression that
an express train had hit him in the face and not even stopped. After
that there weren't any more impressions. That is none, save one. The
impression that he was sailing away into eternity on a great big black
cloud.