They had been rifling the plant as we happened in, I guess, because the floors were strewn with a litter of papers and blueprints, diagrams, schematics, formulae. As my bleary eyes opened, one of the foragers was complaining to the chief rascal: "--nothing here, Schlegel. This has a search of no value been." "And you," I piped up rather feebly, "a nest of rats are! What's the big idea? Untie us, or--" The ringleader turned, grinning unpleasantly. "Or," he sneered, "what _schweinhund_? So, Karl, nothing we can use there is here? Very well; it matters not. When we leave, we shall the plant make useless to the _verdammt Amerikanisch_." He called to others of his cohorts, scattered around the room. "You are ready? When I give the word--ignite!" Polecat No. 2 jerked a dirty thumb in our direction. "And how about them, Schlegel?" Schlegel's grin would have congealed hot toddy. "We leave them here." "Of course, but--" The other man fingered a blunt-nosed automatic hopefully--"would it not be safer to--?" "_Nein!_" chuckled Schlegel boastfully. "We shall not make bulletholes in their carcasses. That the cleverest part of my plan is. That is why we tied them thus. The same fire that destroys them will devour the ropes around their wrists, dropping their bodies to the floor, leaving no evidence. The investigators will believe _they_ started the fire, and so will not search further for _us_." He laughed coarsely and poked me in the ribs. "That amusing is, _nichts wahr, mein Freund_?" "Yeah," I answered grimly. "It's a howl. Just like kidnapping Polish girls and executing innocent hostages. You filthy--" I wrestled savagely with my bonds, but my efforts just sent lancets of pain burning through my already groaning armpits. I glanced at Hank, but he was still hanging quietly from his chain, his eyes closed, his head loud forward upon his chest. He, like Grimper, was blissfully unconscious. Now came an end to the German's taunts. He swung to his aides, rapped swift commands. Matches scratched, flared, were thrust instantly into heaps of piled rubble. Tongues of flame rose, wavering; strengthened; licked hungrily higher as the inflammable material ignited. * * * * * For the first time, a sense of real fear filled me. Up till this moment the whole affair had seemed so fantastic, so maddeningly unreal, that it had been a sort of wild dream. Now I realized belatedly, suddenly, completely, that this was really happening to _me_, here in the heart of the U.S.A. This was War! We had met the enemy in battle--and had lost! [Illustration: Horsesense Hank was suspended over the blazing debris.]