"Here they are, _Herr Leutnant_," the man said. "You will find them all in order. I prize them above everything I own. I am a loyal and trusted member of the Party. But, forgive me, _Herr Leutnant_, I do not understand. Why do you ask me for my--?" "Is it for you to understand _all_ the methods of the Gestapo?" Dawson barked at him, and snatched the papers away. For a brief moment Herr Krumpstadt held his empty hand out in front of him as his face seemed to turn yellow, and then green. Then he clapped his outstretched hand to his mouth for all the world like a man about to become violently ill. And as Dawson saw the terror mount in the man's eyes he knew that he had the fat, puffy-faced German in the palm of his hand! CHAPTER THIRTEEN _The Blank Wall_ For several minutes Dawson pretended to study Herr Krumpstadt's papers carefully, though actually he hardly gave them more than a glance. The idea was to make the German sweat it out for a bit, and that's just what the Nazi did do. When Dawson finally tossed the folder of papers on the desk and looked at the man, Herr Krumpstadt was practically dripping sweat from every pore. His face was flushed like a sunset, and he kept "washing" his hands as he stared at Dawson out of very frightened eyes. "There is something wrong, _Herr Leutnant_?" he asked in a quavering voice when Dawson simply looked at him and through him. "But I do not understand! What have I done that someone should see fit to report me? I swear that I am a loyal Nazi. Heil Hitler!" "The report made about you is our affair," Dawson said sternly. Then, with a wave of one hand toward the closed door, he went on, "You were in conference with them? Do you take me for a fool? Several of those who were here in this room are swine French dogs! What is a good German doing talking with Frenchmen? Frenchmen are only for work. A little conference, eh? Perhaps you made a slip-up there, Herr Krumpstadt?" The German was so eager to talk that the words spilled off his fat lips like flood waters over a broken dam. "But of course, _Herr Leutnant_!" he exclaimed. "The swine French are for work only, and that is why they are here in my factory. Over a hundred of them, _Herr Leutnant_. Sent here by the Ministry of War Production. And it is necessary to hold a conference every now and then to explain the work that I wish them to do. They are swine French, yes, but they are expert welders. And if I am to produce what I have been ordered to produce, then I must have them work for me."