"I know, Herr Krumpstadt," he said. "I know all about what you are doing here. It is not what you make, but those who make it, that interests me. I have been meaning to pay you a little visit before now, but other things were more important. But now that good fortune brought me down here by parachute, I might as well take care of the matter." Dawson paused, and for a moment cocked a thoughtful eye at the far wall, then quickly switched his gaze back to the Nazi's face. "There is one French dog that we want very much," he said. "He probably goes by a hundred different names, but his real name is Pierre Duval. You have perhaps in your records a man by that name?" "It is not familiar to me, _Herr Leutnant_," the German said with a frown and a slow shake of his head, "but I will look in my war prisoner file and make sure. One minute, please, _Herr Leutnant_." Dawson simply grunted and watched Krumpstadt walk over to a wall filing cabinet and pull open one of the drawers. He studied its contents for several minutes and then turned back to Dawson with another shake of his head. "No, _Herr Leutnant_," he said. "I have not one of them listed by the name of Pierre Duval." "I did not expect that you would," Dave grunted with a shrug. "The dog would naturally not be that much of a fool. The man may even be dead by now. We do not know for sure. But as I am now here I will check them over and make sure. Herr Krumpstadt! Conduct me about your factory and I will take a look at these French swine." "But of course, _Herr Leutnant_!" the German beamed. "It will be an honor and a pleasure." "But one word of caution, Herr Krumpstadt!" Dawson snapped, and leveled a stiff forefinger at the man. "The one you will conduct through your factory is a Luftwaffe pilot shot down in battle. He is your guest, and you are doing him a slight honor. There will be no mention by sign or word of who I really am, or the reason for my little visit here. I hope you understand me, Herr Krumpstadt?" "Oh, yes, yes, _Herr Leutnant_!" the German made haste to reply, and bobbed his head violently. "My lips are sealed. Why, I wouldn't dare, _Herr Leutnant_!" "I'm sure you wouldn't," Dawson said dryly. "Very well, let us take a look around." Herr Krumpstadt nodded, beamed, and led the way to his office door.