“Shall we get to work on the repairs right away?” Arm said.
The lieutenant ran a hand through his dark hair and his teeth flashed whitely against the black stubble of his four-day’s beard.
“Dou you bring along anything to eat?” he asked wistfully.
“Why, certainly,” Ann smiled. “I have some canned broth, sandwiches, a thermos of coffee and even a pint of whiskey.”
“Stop it!” Red begged, holding both hands to his ears. “I can’t bear to hear those things mentioned.”
“I think we’d better eat first and then tackle our repair job,” the lieutenant said.
Tink and Jing went aboard the plane while the lieutenant, Ann and Red were eating, and in one of the dark corners of the cabin Tink stumbled unexpectedly upon Nastee.
Nastee crouched in the corner as Tink stared down at him, hands resting belligerently on his hips.
“So,” he said, “This is where you’ve been hiding.”
“I haven’t been hiding,” Nastee said. He glanced warily from Tink to Jing. “You aren’t mad at me, are you?” His eyes met Jing’s in a mute plea for sympathy. “I froze my left ear out on that wing, you know.”
“It serves you just right,” Jing said. “Aren’t you ashamed of all the trouble you’ve caused these poor people?” Nastee started to reply, but Tink cut him short.
“Nastee isn’t ashamed of anything he did,” he said. “But he’d lie and say he was, to save his own skin. You’re lucky everything’s turned out all right or you’d have me on your neck for life, because this time I’m really mad.”
“Did everything turn out all right?” Nastee asked cautiously.
“Yes,” Tink said grimly. “A unit from an allied field just arrived with food and supplies. The plane will be ready to take-off in a day or so.”
Nastee looked humbly at the floor. “That’s good,” he said, sighing heavily.
Cut it out,” Tink said disguestedly. “Your acting isn’t impressing anyone.” He turned to Jing decisively. “While we have him here I think we ought to make sure he doesn’t cause any more trouble. Let’s lock him in the machine gun breech until we reach the allied field.”
But Jing’s eyes had softened as Nastee looked pleadingly at her.
“I think this time he’s learned his lesson, Tink,” she said. “Let’s give him another chance.”
“All right,” Tink said grimly, “but no more monkey business or into the gun breech you go.”
“I’ll be good,” Nastee said humbly.
“I doubt it,” Tink said.
“You’re just too callous, Tink,” Jing said, coming to Nastee’s defense.
Tink shrugged helplessly.
“Maybe the lieutenant was right,” he muttered.
“About what?” Jing asked.
“About women in war time,” Tink said. “They should be home baking bread while the men do the fighting.”
Jing sniffed. “You’re just as vain and unreasonable as all men.”
“All right,” Tink sighed, “let’s don’t argue about it.”
They left the plane and started across the clearing where the lieutenant and the girl were packing away the remains of their lunch.
The jungle was quiet and there was only the whisper of a breeze moving the brush. Night was dropping quickly.
“It seems as if we’re on another planet,” Ann said, glancing about at the brooding darkness of the jungle. “It doesn’t seem possible that there’s another human within a thousand miles of us.”
A twig snapped suddenly at the edge of the clearing. The lieutenant looked up quickly, his lean face tense.
His hand started for the revolver at his belt, but a harsh voice suddenly said, “Please, do not move.”
The brush parted and two uniformed figures moved into the clearing. Each held a German Luger in his right hand, and the muzzles of the guns were pointed unwaveringly at the three Americans.
Chapter VI
“Germans!” Jing whispered tensely in Tink’s ear.
Tink took her hand in his and held it tightly.
The Germans stopped a dozen feet from the Americans. Their breeches and leather jackets were stained and torn, and their eyes were red-rimmed with fatigue. But the hands that held the guns were steady as rocks. They both wore wings over the sharp peaks of their garrison caps.
“Permit me,” one of them spoke, his voice harsh and mocking. “Captain Myers, of the Luftwaffe, at your service.” He gestured negligently to the man who stood beside him. “Oberleutnant Schmidt, my navigator. You are Americans?”
Lieutenant Diggles stood up slowly. “Yes, we are Americans,” he said. “We crashed here a week ago. My cameraman’s leg was broken.”
“What a coincidence,” the German captain said. “We too crashed, but many miles from here. We are on our way to the coast. This territory is temporarily in British hands and isn’t too healthy for our Nordic blood.”
He glanced at the plane and then back to Lieutenant Diggles.
“Can your ship be repaired?”
He intercepted the warning glance the lieutenant flashed at Ann, and smiled.
“I see,” he said. He looked at the gray service truck that was parked on the opposite side of the clearing. “Your ship can be repaired. I gather the young lady came here in the truck from some nearby allied field with the necessary equipment. How convenient.”
“What do you mean?” Lieutenant Diggles said.
“We will need your plane to make our escape,” the captain said. “Frankly our chances of working our way through this territory to the coast are not good. But we can fly to one of your bases from here in the matter of an hour or so. Tomorrow we will repair your plane. And now we will eat.”
Ann angrily dropped the large tin food receptacle at their feet.
“There,” she said, “with all my love. “You’d take it anyway.”
“Quite right, my dear,” the captain murmured. “We Germans discovered long ago that only fools and weaklings ever ask for anything.”
He looked steadily at Ann until a slow angry flush colored the girl’s cheeks.
“How lovely you are, my dear,” the captain said, bowing slightly. “This may be the start of a beautiful friendship.” His voice suddenly hardened again as he swung on Lieutenant Diggles. “We need sleep. My comrade, Oberleutnant Schmidt, will watch while I rest, and I will watch while he rests. If you have any foolish ideas of resisting, get rid of them before they cause you trouble. I warn you, if you make a move we will shoot the girl first.”
He sat down on the ground beside the container and opened it greedily.
“While we are eating,” he said, smiling gently, “I think you had better gather some moss and make me a nice comfortable bed.” He gestured impatiently with his gun as the American lieutenant hesitated, his face hardening angrily.
“You had better do as I say,” the captain murmured, “or I might find it necessary to put a bullet through one of your arms. That wouldn’t be pleasant. Quickly!”
He chuckled contentedly and dug into the food container as the American lieutenant began to gather armfuls of moss and spread them on the ground.
The next morning, under the armed supervision of the German officers, the job of repairing the plane was begun. The American lieutenant had prepared an inventory of the damage and the type and number of replacement parts that would be needed.
Captain Myers studied the list for a while and then ordered the lieutenant to get busy.
“And remember,” he added. “I am completely familiar with these machines, so don’t make any foolish attempt to sabotage the plane. And I also know how long each job should take, so I will not tolerate any stalling. Now get busy! We intend to take-off before dark tonight. Oberleutnant Schmidt will help you and also see to it that you don’t do anything foolish.”