to overlook any angle.

He had three mechanics helping him, with Hans giving his orders to the
two who spoke no English. As he worked he began to wonder if he had not
been neatly tricked. He was sure that at least one of the men hanging
around watching him was a Luftwaffe pilot. No one interfered with his
work or tried to tell him what to do. He was having as free a hand as
though he had been working in a shop of the Eighth Air Force. Some of
the men scowled at him, but most of them just watched with interest and
with something else. Stan guessed they were eagerly waiting for the trap
to spring. Then they could have a big laugh on the dumb Yank.

The supercharger parts were about installed in the ship. Stan checked
the gasoline supply. There was just enough to fly him out over the
channel if he took off before he used too much. Once out over the
channel he might be able to water-crash the P-51 near a British patrol
or pick-up boat. The trouble was that the instant the engine began to
work the trap would be sprung on him. He had to figure that one out
fast.

Swen showed up and hung around watching along with the other mechanics.
He grinned at Stan once and shook his head. Stan winked at him. Herr
Domber showed up in a sports outfit. His white spats gleamed and his
yellow tie shone. Domber was in a very genial mood.

"You are progressing?" he asked.

"I'm getting the thing together, but I don't know whether it will
work," Stan said.

"We will have lunch at a cafe downtown today," Herr Domber said without
the flicker of an eye. "I have a special cafe in mind where the sea food
is excellent and the wine very choice."

"That will be fine," Stan said and grinned as he hoisted himself up into
the ship.

He lay inside the fuselage and looked at the supercharger. There was one
valve which he had not fitted. He was afraid that if he fitted that
valve into place the Mustang would purr like a cat. He was now convinced
that the Germans had had all of their trouble with the air mixture and
the pressure intake. His instructions on the new machine had been very
detailed on these points. They were the secrets of the new supercharger.

Stan plugged the valve opening with a wad of cotton waste and tucked the
valve into his pocket. Of one thing he was sure, the Mustang's engine
had to be hot if he expected to snap her out of that hangar. And in
getting her hot he did not dare let her show signs of running smoothly.
Climbing out