Dawson's brain was spinning with confusion, and he tried to follow Freddy's words. But the only thing that really sank in was the fact that several seconds later Freddy Farmer and he had plowed right through the group in the middle of the road, left them standing there, and were racing along in the half darkness at top speed. With every step he took Dawson expected to hear angry shouts behind, and hear the bark of guns. Nothing happened, though, and presently Freddy and he were running through a narrow passage between two of the hills. And there spread out before them was a sight that caused them both instinctively to slow down to a stop and gape in horrified amazement. As far as Dawson was concerned, he might have stood rooted in his tracks forever staring at the sight. But suddenly Freddy Farmer grabbed his arm, and pulled him off to the side and behind some heavy shrub growth. Winded, the two youths sank down onto the ground, and for a full minute not a word passed between them. Presently, though, Dave reached over, found Freddy's hand, and pressed it hard. "I won't even say, nice going, pal!" he whispered. "Because I know darn well that it just didn't happen. Holy smoke! Right smack through the bunch, and not one of them so much as opened his mouth to stop you!" "Credit it to the power of the Gestapo," Freddy murmured. "Plus the fact that a Jerry's mind never moves very fast. I know, though, that I'll go on being scared stiff for the rest of my life. I'll never get over these last few minutes. But, Dave! Look! It _is_ all true. Just as Weiden told us. But--but what can we do, now that we're here?" Dawson didn't reply to that question. The power of speech failed him as he peered through the shrub branches, and out across the mile square area of billiard table flat ground completely ringed by hills. It was like looking at some weird picture conjured up in the mind of a mad artist. It just wasn't possible to believe, even though he was staring at it with his own eyes. The picture of at least one hundred R.A.F. and Eighth Air Force heavy bombers, complete with insigne and unit markings. _But_ with German uniformed figures swarming all about them. It was so fantastic, so utterly unreal, that Dawson impulsively closed his eyes tight several times, and then opened them quickly, fully expecting the crazy scene to vanish in thin air.