a moment on the old leader's shoulder. "Don't feel badly about it, Lester. The men need you. You owe it to them to get out if you can." Oliver gripped his hand. "Before I go I want you to know how grateful we are for the help you've given us. Without Wagner the General won't be nearly as hard to handle. And one other thing: I don't want you to hope too much, but there's still a chance we may be able to get you out. I'm trying a long shot. So if someone comes for you, go with him. In the meantime, keep your chin up." They shook hands again. Buckmaster surmised that Oliver was trying to give him something to cling to while he waited for the end. Then he was alone. Three hours later Buckmaster spotted the first of his executioners: One of the Ruskies that walked with studied unconcern across the street. Almost at the same time he heard a rap on the rear door of the apartment. He drew the gun Oliver had left with him and walked slowly to the door. "Who is it?" "Oliver sent me for you," the voice on the other side of the door answered. "Come in with your hands up." Buckmaster flattened himself against a side wall and shoved his gun into the ribs of a tall young man. "Who are you?" "My name is August Gamoll," the man said. Somehow the name was familiar. He should recognize it, Buckmaster thought. Abruptly he did. "What are you trying to do?" Buckmaster asked harshly. "Make a small-time hero of yourself with this grandstand play?" "Not at all," Gamoll answered. "I'm the long shot Oliver mentioned." "You're lying.""Then how would I know what Oliver said?"
"It may be a lucky guess. Why should I trust you?"
"Mainly because you have no choice. What have you got to lose?" He was a cool character. Buckmaster shrugged. He hated this playing it blind, but the fellow was right. "O.K.," he said. "You might as well take your hands down. Let's go."
They went down the stairs. At the rear exit Gamoll looked out. He wore no hat. The wind from the alley fluffed the hair on the side of his head.
"All clear," Gamoll said. "Make a dash for it. When you get in the carriage lie low. Now!"
The die was cast, Buckmaster decided. He'd play it to the hilt now, all or nothing. He sprinted across the dirt of the alley and jerked open a door of the carriage. He threw himself inside and hugged the floor. Soon the carriage began to roll. When they had traveled about a half block it stopped. Buckmaster drew in his breath. This was the critical point. If Gamoll could bluff his way through now the rest would be comparatively easy.
"Give me an escort, Captain," he heard Gamoll say. "I don't want to get tied up here. I understand there's going to be some shooting soon."
"That's right, sir," a crisp military voice answered. "It's best that you get out fast. I’ll send one of my men with 

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