But a louder voice from the man dangling in the tree shouted, “_Hold it._ Hold it, Slim. It’s just a kid. I can see him. Don’t shoot. Say, somebody come over here and cut me down.” [Illustration] André’s stiffened body relaxed, and he began to feel his way among the dim branches. Several men had gathered at the foot of the tree, whispering, and one of them lifted his voice angrily. “What’s a kid doin’ in a tree this time of night? Something funny here.” “Okay. _Okay._ We’ll find out. But get me down before this harness cuts me in two.” André called, “Don’t shoot me. I’m coming down. I want to help.” He slithered more quickly now from limb to limb, and jumped. Instantly a flashlight blinded him, and a drawling voice said, “Well, what d’ya know! A little shrimp!” The flashlight had been turned to the ground. As soon as his eyes had grown accustomed to it, André gaped at the men. Never had he seen such frightening figures: torn uniforms, faces blackened with soot, each one bristling with every kind of small arm and grenade, topped off by helmets festooned with leafy twigs. He gasped in amazement. “Are you Americans?” The most tattered of the men grinned. “Sure. Who you expecting? Say, how come you’re talking English?” “My sister and I learned a lot of English from Father Duprey,” André replied, “just in case.” “Case of what?” demanded the suspicious one. “To help you when you came,” said André. “But sir, shouldn’t we get that man up there out of the tree?” “It’s about time!” came from the branches near by. André shinnied quickly up above the dangling trooper and disentangled the chute. A moment later the chutist was on the ground, unstrapping his Tommy gun. A stocky, bristling soldier had been looking out over the highway uneasily. Now he said, “Say, Slim, we gotta get movin’. We’re supposed to get to the causeways across the flooded part. Give ’em the signal, Risso.” Softly then, André heard a little rasping cricket-sound that was repeated almost at once from the meadow. More helmeted men crept up to the group. They said, “Hi, Sarge, what now?” The stocky sergeant had been studying the darkened scene around him. Now he said, “We’re too far inland.” He looked down at André. “Listen, kid. You really mean you want to help us Americans--you aren’t up to no tricks?” André frowned. “I’ve been waiting to help for a long time. It is my country here.” The sergeant’s face softened a little. “Okay, I believe you. But listen. Where’s your folks?” “My family has gone away,” André explained. “But they’ll be home soon. What do you want me to do?” “You just tell us how far it is to the nearest road across that lagoon--” André interrupted excitedly, “First, I must tell you, there are at least six Nazis in our barn. They have machine guns trained on the road. I’ll show you the way around the back wall. You could catch them from behind.”