s arms and
legs and decided he had been hit a hard jolt in the back which had
knocked the breath out of him and shocked him badly, but otherwise he
was all right.

CHAPTER XI

PLENTY OF TROUBLE

Stan Wilson followed by O'Malley and Allison barged into Wing Commander
Farrell's office. Before them marched Arch Garret with a Luger shoved
into the small of his back. The O.C. leaped to his feet. He had been
nodding in his chair and thought he must be dreaming. He quickly changed
his mind.

Stan told his story in brief, clipped sentences. Farrell did not
interrupt. When he had finished Garret broke in before the O.C. could
say anything. He was not the defiant and arrogant lieutenant he had
been. Fear showed in his eyes and his voice was shaking.

"I'll talk if it will save me from a firing squad," he begged.

"I may try but I do not think any power will save you," Farrell said
sternly. "But you had better talk for the sake of your own conscience."

"They had me where they wanted me. My father was in Germany, in a
concentration camp. I had to do what they ordered." Sweat was standing
out in big drops on Garret's forehead. "I was straight and did my job
until they got to me."

"That's why you got where you are and why you were not released after
your first bad report. Your past record was fine." The O.C. dropped back
into his chair. He jerked a phone from its cradle. He was looking
intently at Garret as he clicked the receiver. "Go on, talk. I'll do
what I can for you."

"The radioman is at 30 Elm Inn," Garret babbled. "He is to wait there
for word from Herr Naggel. When Naggel gives the word, all will be clear
for the attack."

"Naggel won't send any messages," Stan said grimly, remembering the
terrible explosion which had blown him clear out into the street.

The O.C. had gotten his man and was barking into the phone. He kept on
putting through calls and talking to Stan and Allison and O'Malley at
the same time.

"Get a guard, O'Malley, and turn Garret over to him. Wilson, stand by.
Allison, get back to the mess and see that all of the men stand by ready
for action."

Stan watched the O.C. with admiration. He was a demon for getting things
done in a speedy and effective manner. Stan handed his Luger to
O'Malley. The Irishman prodded Garret with it.

"Get a move on, ye skulkin' hyena," O'Malley growled.

They moved out of the room with O'Malley telling the wilted Garret what
he thought of him.

"