Dawson scowled in deep thought, and then tried a cold stare or two for Krumpstadt's benefit, but it didn't seem to change anything. Time was running out fast, and Dawson knew that to linger any longer might result in growing suspicion on Krumpstadt's part. The Nazi was over his original fright. Nothing had been charged against him, and some of the arrogance that is a typical German trait was coming back into his manner and speech. And so Dave Dawson made his decision. His decision to get out of Farbin Factory Number Six, and to get out as quickly as he could. "Did you say you had a car, Herr Krumpstadt?" he suddenly snapped. "That is so, _Herr Leutnant_," the Nazi replied. And then, with just the faintest of frowns, "You wish to be driven some place? To your Staffle Headquarters?" "Yes, but not to my Staffle," Dawson said. "There is one to whom I must report in Duisburg. Order your car, Herr Krumpstadt, and you can drive me there. And I mention it again. My friend who is high in the Party will hear of the courtesy and consideration that you have shown me." That accomplished what perhaps threats would have failed completely to achieve. Herr Krumpstadt was suddenly all smiles again, and eager expectancy showed in his eyes. After all, it was not every day that one's name was mentioned to one in high authority. All in all it pleased Herr Krumpstadt very much. "At once, _Herr Leutnant_!" he said. "And of course I will drive you. No one else here is permitted to leave the area. As you know, there are guards all about. But with me it is different. Holding the position I do, I am permitted to come and go as I wish. No questions are asked of me." It was all Dawson could do to refrain from heaving one great big sigh of relief. How he would pass through the cordon of guards had been a problem to be faced. But not any more. With Herr Krumpstadt he would obviously sail right on through, and even get saluted on the way by Hitler's soldiers. "Of course," Dawson said, and even favored the Nazi with his first smile. "Let us leave at once. Heil Hitler!" "Heil Hitler!" Herr Krumpstadt fairly screamed, and whacked his arm up in a rigid Nazi salute. "Follow me, _Herr Leutnant_." Fifteen minutes later Farbin Factory Number Six, and its ring of guards, were far behind the rear wheels of the Benz touring car that Herr Krumpstadt guided toward Duisburg in the distance. It had been absolutely comical to see the soldiers manning the guard posts to stiffen and salute as the Benz rolled by them. However, Dawson kept his face expressionless, returned each salute in the mechanical Nazi way, and simply smiled inwardly. "This address where you wish me to drive you, _Herr Leutnant_?" the Nazi behind the wheel presently broke the silence between them. Dawson hesitated, and then made his decision. "Kholerstrasse," he said. "It is on the east side of the city. You can drop me off as soon as we reach it. I will walk to my destination from there."