pened the door and O'Malley shoved into the room close behind him.
They stood looking at Sim's bunk. The straw ticking of the mattress had
been slit open and some of the straw was scattered on the floor. Sim was
not in the room. Stan walked over to a little table. One small light
bulb was flooding the room with light.

"He was here and left in a hurry. He didn't turn off the light."

"I'm gettin' out o' here," O'Malley growled.

"Sit down. We're staying," Stan said sharply. He pulled off his coat and
tossed it across his bunk, then he seated himself on the foot of his
bed.

"We're going to get it in the neck, anyway," O'Malley scowled.

"Do you know where we are, in what part of Germany?"

"Somewhere near Berlin," O'Malley said.

"Sure, but where? We need more dope on the grounds and on the country
around us. We wouldn't get a mile from this prison farm if we did break
out."

O'Malley sat down on his bed. "Sure, you're right. We should have had
Sim tell us something about this deal."

"Now that you mention it, Sim never told us anything," Stan said.

"Probably didn't know anything," O'Malley growled.

They sat looking at each other, waiting, trying to discover some lead
that might help them. Finally Stan said:

"We'll have to clean up that straw and fix Sim's bed before anyone comes
in here snooping around."

"Yeah," O'Malley said but he did not move.

CHAPTER VIII

FLIGHT

Stan began cleaning up their room so that the guards checking rooms that
night would not notice Sim had gone. He wanted to give Sim as much of a
start as possible. While he was brushing the straw under Sim's bunk the
door opened. Both boys turned quickly. In the doorway stood Sim. His
lips were parted in a thin smile.

"Sim!" Stan took a step toward the door. "We thought you had gone."

"Quiet," Sim whispered. "Come with me."

He turned and moved out into the hall with Stan and O'Malley at his
heels. They walked down the hall and into a corner room. Sim crossed the
room and opened a window. They saw a rope dangling over the sill.

Stan peered into the darkness below but could see nothing. "There
should be a guard right under this window," he whispered.

"He has been taken care of," Sim hissed. "You go down. We will follow."

"Didn't you get any guns or grenades?" O'Malley asked.

"No," Sim answered sharply. "Hurry."

Stan climbed through the window and slid down the rope. When his feet
hit the ground he wiggled t