Presently the young officer appeared. He glared at the three Yanks.

"Are you ready to talk?" he demanded.

"No," Stan answered. The others shook their heads.

"In that case, I will waste no time. You will be shot within the hour." He turned to the Italian prisoners and spoke in German to one of them. His words were harsh, and his attitude showed he had no respect for the men. One of the prisoners answered in German. His words were angry and he was defiant. Suddenly, Allison stepped forward.

"I say, old man," he addressed the officer. "I've changed my mind. There is some information I could give the colonel."

"Come along then," the officer snapped. He shot a few words at the Italians as he motioned for the guard to open the door. Stan grabbed Allison's arm. "You can't do it, fellow," he said. 

Allison turned on him. "You may want to die and become a hero, but I'd rather be a live war prisoner. I say, get your hands off me." Stan started to pull Allison back. With a quick movement, Allison planted a fist on Stan's jaw. It was a hard right cross and set Stan back on his heels.

The officer laughed loudly. "Now you are acting quite as you should, you swine."

"Let me get a crack at him," O'Malley howled. "The traitor!" He was blocked by the bayonet of the guard. Allison walked out of the cell. He paused and looked back. There was a mocking leer on his lips. "Good-by, saps," he said.

Stan slumped down on the bench. O'Malley marched up and down, fuming and ranting. Twenty minutes passed and a soldier came to the cell. He escorted the Italians out of the room. Stan got to his feet and walked to the door. He was attracted by marching feet on the gravel outside. Looking out, he saw a squad of men with rifles. The squad leader halted them and faced them toward a wall. Their rifle butts hit the gravel, and they stood rigid, with their backs to the cell door. Stan noticed that the mortar had been knocked from the surface of the wall. He could see many splattered places and many bullet holes in that wall. Turning around, he looked at O'Malley, who had seated himself.

"The reception committee has arrived," he said calmly. O'Malley got to his feet and walked to the door. In silence, they stood looking out at their executioners. The squad leader was looking their way. He seemed eager to get at the business he had to perform.

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