A/N: Thanks again to all my reviewers! Sorry it's been so long since I updated last; I got kinda stuck back in April, and I haven't had time or enough inclination to work on it since then (and other stories have been vying for my attention). This chapter turned out a little differently than I had originally intended; I'll probably show the other side of what happened during the search in the next chapter, along with a scene that occurred to me just a day or so ago. There is some German dialog here (I think I got all the endings and things right, but please correct me with specifics if I didn't), but I've had Kinch summarize for the Fellowship, and I've also provided translations at the end; they're numbered by exchange, so it should be pretty easy to figure out—although I didn't put reference numbers in the text itself, and the translations are only of the dialog.
Kinch leaned back with a sigh, mentally replaying the improbable events of the past three hours. After the departure of Carter and LeBeau, Hogan had gone upstairs to check on the gin game and came back with a message for London and two curious hobbits who watched his every move. Then the other visitors decided that they wanted the grand tour of the tunnel system, which left London on standby for an hour because Gimli stopped every few feet to comment on the tunnel structure and Merry and Pippin continually asked questions about anything they'd never seen before. Kinch had just barely had time to send the second half of their message to London when Schultz showed up, which led to 15 minutes of questioning in Klink's office regarding the "play" the prisoners were supposedly practicing. On the way back, they ran into an RAF officer from Barracks 9 who had served in Manchester with Christopher Tolkien before being transferred to bomber duty (and subsequently being shot down and captured); this man had visited with the junior Tolkien about his father's writings and gladly shared what little he knew about Middle-earth with Hogan, including the serial tale about a magic ring that, according to Christopher, was a work-in-progress that his father sent to him for a diversion. That had taken 30 minutes. After another short chat with Schultz and a cursory check to make sure that Frodo was still conscious and that Merry and Pippin hadn't blown up anything, Kinch and Hogan had gone back to the radio room to send yet another message to London. The result was that Hogan had been arguing with the man on the other end of the wire for roughly five minutes.
Kinch was pulled out of his reverie by an exasperated sigh from his commanding officer. "Stand back, Goldilocks."
"Stand back y'self, Teddy," grumbled the American on the other end. "Oveh an' out."
Kinch recognized the coded signal and switched to the emergency voice wavelength, chosen because both parties knew no one monitored it, although transmissions were still kept as short as possible. "Teddy?" he asked as he turned the dial.
"Oh, that's Conlon's shorthand for 'Papa Bear,'" Hogan sighed, shaking his head. "In person he calls me 'Robbie boy,' but since we're on the radio…."
"Understood."
"Okay, Teddy boy," came through the speakers. "Youse got three more tries to tell me why y'don't want dis package delivered."
Why Conlon? Hogan groaned inwardly. The OSS officer was a tough old bird who had once told Hogan, "I've told enough lies in my time to be able to see through one." And he could. It had taken Hogan the majority of the war to find out why, though; it surprised all the Heroes when, in digging through old newspapers in the Hammelberg Library on an assignment to find something else, Newkirk had found an account from 1899 of the Newsie Strike, including Spot Conlon's name and picture. It explained a lot—growing up on the streets of Brooklyn would make anyone fierce—but it didn't help in trying to explain why they didn't want Professor Tolkien to be parachuted in to help them ostensibly build a new code.
Hogan took a deep breath and began again. "Too dangerous."
"One."
"We don't need it in our way in the current situation."
"Two."
Deciding to go for the absolute truth, Hogan replied, "If you were in the process of writing a fantasy novel, would you want to come face to face with your characters?"
There was a stunned pause before Spot yelled, "What?"
"You heard me. And no, that's not code."
"How?"
"Dunno. Just found connections to the package from here. It's the truth, though."
Spot grumbled something that didn't quite come through on the radio; Kinch suspected it was some sort of comment about Hogan's sanity. Finally, in a clearly disgruntled voice, he stated, "Package will be kept here until called for."
"Thanks, Goldilocks. Over and out."
"What was it he said?" Kinch asked.
"I dunno," Hogan shrugged, "but I think he was swearing in Swedish."
"Swedish?!"
"Didn't that newspaper article mention some Swedish dance-hall singer who was friends with the newsies? Maybe he learned it from her."
Kinch shook his head. "This has got to be the craziest war on record."
"You could be right, Kinch. 'Course, the Thirty Years' War did start with people throwing each other out of windows…."
"And then there was the Boston Tea Party…."
"And the Battle of the Seine, where the French Army commandeered all the taxis in Paris to get to the front on time…."
"But I don't know if even that tops some of the stunts we've pulled!"
Both men laughed.
Hogan looked down at his watch and sobered. "They should be back by now."
Kinch looked at his own watch. "Only twenty minutes late. Maybe they had to take a different route back to avoid patrols."
"Maybe… but normally there aren't any patrols on that route."
"So what do we do?"
"Only thing we can do. Wait. And hope nothing happened."
Kinch sighed. They all hated being in this position. Sometimes the men outside were simply running late, and sometimes they were captured or injured. No one had any way of knowing, and there was really nothing they could do until someone showed up or word came by radio.
"By the way, where are our guests again?"
"The hobbits are upstairs, and I think Gimli is, too. Aragorn and Boromir are waiting in the emergency tunnel, and Gandalf went off somewhere to 'practice.'"
"Practice what?"
"Spells, maybe? I dunno."
"Why would he need to practice spells?"
"Well, suppose they really are from another universe. The rules are probably different here. So he may think he needs to find out exactly how much magic he can do here." Kinch shrugged.
"Yeah, I guess that makes sense." Hogan made a mental tally. "That's only eight, though. Where's Legolas?"
Kinch thought for a moment. "Haven't seen him since Carter and LeBeau left." At his commander's frown, he added, "Maybe he just went outside to talk to the trees again. He didn't seem too happy down here."
"Maybe," Hogan nodded, still frowning. The explanation didn't quite seem to fit, though; the elf had been gone far too long for a simple excursion through the forest.
"A Elbereth Gilthoniel!" suddenly rang through the tunnel.
"Aiya Eärendil Elenion Ancalima!" Aragorn's voice replied as a countersign.
Kinch and Hogan left the radio and hurried into the emergency tunnel. Sure enough, Legolas had just reached the bottom of the ladder, and LeBeau was hard on his heels.
"Where've you been?" Hogan demanded of Legolas.
"With them," Legolas replied, nodding toward LeBeau.
"Oui, and it's a good thing he was," LeBeau agreed, moving out of the way for Tiger. "The Boche were after Tiger, and Legolas helped us lose them."
Kinch picked a leaf off LeBeau's shoulder. "Took the high road, huh?" he teased.
"Hey, my Sioux cousins woulda been proud," Carter announced as he clambered down the ladder. "That SS guy never knew what hit 'im!"
Hogan looked hard at Legolas. "SS?"
"Yeah!" Carter answered before Legolas could. "He almost had us, too. But ol' Leggy here shot 'im 'fore he could do anything."
"Leggy?!" the Edain and the elf asked incredulously.
Carter looked at his shoes sheepishly. "Sorry. Guess you guys aren't too big on nicknames."
"Legolas…" Hogan insisted.
Legolas looked Hogan squarely in the eye. "A soldier in black was following Lady Tiger and was about to capture Carter and LeBeau along with her. I had no choice but to shoot. To avoid further pursuit, I led the others back through the trees."
"What'd you have to shoot 'im for? Now the Gestapo will be after us!"
Legolas bristled at Hogan's tone. "Colonel Hogan, he had the others at bay. Had I merely rendered him unconscious, he would have been able to identify them when he came to, and there would have been a greater chance, however remote it might still have been, that he could have seen me. Nor could we safely have taken him prisoner. Furthermore, since I do not use your weapons, it will prove more difficult to identify who and what killed him; I did remove the arrow."
"We are also unused to simply disarming fell creatures," Aragorn continued, laying a hand on his old friend's shoulder. "Legolas was acting on instinct, Hogan. Had you lived in Mirkwood for any length of time, you would understand."
Hogan frowned. "Mirkwood? Isn't that where all those giant spiders live, the ones that nearly got the best of Bilbo and the dwarves?"
"Among other things," Legolas nodded. "When Sauron, in the guise of the Necromancer, took up residence in Dol Guldur, many fell things began to inhabit the forests of my father's realm. Orcs, Wargs, spiders, and things worse than these—I have hunted them all. This man… felt like one of the Enemy's spies. Aragorn is right; I acted on instinct."
Comprehension dawned on Hogan's face. "I see. I'm sorry, Legolas. Your actions do make sense now."
"And I ask forgiveness in advance if these… Gestapo do cause trouble for you on my account. I am not sure how I could have acted differently, but I do not wish to cause you problems."
"Colonel, d'ya think we could hear what Tiger has to say now?" Kinch broke in.
Hogan blinked. "Huh? Oh, sure. Tiger, this is Aragorn and Boromir, and I think you know Legolas."
"Enchante," Tiger smiled.
Both Aragorn and Boromir bowed—rather deeply, Tiger thought, surprised.
"C'mon, let's do this in my office. I want all our guests to be in on this. Anyone know where Gandalf is?"
"Right behind you," replied the wizard with a twinkle.
Hogan jumped, and everyone laughed.
"I wasn't far away," Gandalf explained, "and I heard the name of Elbereth, so I knew Legolas must have returned."
"How long have you been standing there?" Hogan asked.
"Not long. Let us retire to your quarters, for I am as anxious as you to hear what this lady has to say. Perhaps your mission is the reason we are here."
Hogan muttered something that sounded like "uncanny," and the nine of them trooped upstairs, picking up Newkirk, Gimli, Merry, and Pippin on the way. The latter two piled onto the lower bunk in Hogan's room with Sam and Frodo, who was still suffering the effects of his head injury.
"There is a supply train passing this way tomorrow night on its way to France," Tiger began simply.
"And they want us to blow it up?" Carter asked hopefully.
"Oui et non. You see, this train is not merely carrying supplies. A group of musicians who were prisoners at Dachau are also traveling on the train. We believe they are bound for a château near Rennes that serves as an officers' club. There is also a rumor that that château is to be attacked just prior to the Allied invasion, whenever it may come."
"So London wants us to save the Jews and destroy the train, is that it?" Hogan frowned.
"Oui. They are very fine musicians, we are told, but London is not sure that the commandos attacking the château would know that they are Jews. And stopping the train could mean life or death to the invading force."
"Sounds simple enough," Kinch shrugged.
"Assuming that we haven't managed to get the Gestapo out looking for us," Hogan agreed.
"How can we help?" Aragorn asked.
"That's a good question, Aragorn, and I do appreciate the offer," Hogan answered as he pulled down a map. "Tiger, can you map out the route the train will take?"
A highly technical and strategic discussion followed, quickly dividing into two conversations as Gandalf and Carter sought a corner in which to discuss the finer points of pyrotechnology. The hobbits quickly got lost trying to follow the various threads of discourse, but they nevertheless sat politely and tried to appear interested. Merry, in particular, gazed intently at the map, memorizing its features in case he were ever in a position to need the knowledge.
Suddenly Legolas, who had been leaning against a bedpost with his arms folded as he listened to Aragorn and Hogan, stood up straight and turned his head toward the window as if he were trying to listen and watch for something at the same time. A split second later, Frodo grabbed at something under his shirt.
"Gandalf…" Frodo choked out a barely audible whisper that was a panicked plea for help.
Alarmed, Sam covered Frodo's hands with his own.
"What is it, Legolas?" Aragorn frowned, turning to face his friend.
"I do not know for certain," Legolas replied. "Something approaches the gate, but I cannot place the sound it makes… almost like the wheels of a wain, and yet not so."
Hogan and his men exchanged a look and dashed out of the office into the main room of the barracks, huddling around the window next to the door. Aragorn and Boromir followed them, as did Tiger; Legolas turned his full attention to the view from the office window, while Gimli stood in the doorway with his axe ready in his hands. Merry and Pippin, unsure of what they ought to be doing, opted to stay out of the way by remaining firmly seated at the end of the lower bunk. Sam and Gandalf, meanwhile, focused on Frodo, who was clutching the object under his shirt desperately.
"Let go, Sam…."
"Shh, now, Mr. Frodo… we're safe enough 'ere."
"Must use it… must get away… they'll find me…."
Gandalf quietly but firmly broke into the whispered conversation. "Frodo, we do not know what the Ring will do here. But you cannot use it. If indeed it draws the servants of the Enemy here as strongly as it does in Middle-earth, we are in danger enough without using it; to use it would merely be to endanger ourselves and our hosts even more. Yes, Frodo, our hosts are in danger as well, and not simply from harboring us. Were anyone to learn of this assignment that we just discussed, they would surely be killed. We are not yet in Mordor, but this is assuredly Enemy territory."
The wild look in Frodo's eyes faded. "Yes… yes, you're right, Gandalf. I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me… I suppose it was the Ring… and this confounded head injury isn't helping." He sighed. "You know, for a moment I had forgotten all about It. I had hoped…."
"As had I," Gandalf replied with a gentle smile.
"Gandalf, come and see this thing," Legolas beckoned. "It is a wain of sorts, I think, and yet it is not drawn by horses!"
Gandalf frowned and moved to the window. "Most odd…."
"And the men inside are clad in the same manner as the man I shot."
At about this moment, Pippin got tired of being out of the way. A silver object on Hogan's desk caught his eye, and he silently slipped across the room to investigate. It looked like something he'd seen in the other room that LeBeau had called a coffeepot, but this was different; it was not shaped the same way, but was more like a teapot, and it had a glass lid. Pippin gently took the lid off and discovered what looked like a removable sieve under it. He gave it an experimental tug and found that it would indeed come out, but that a metal box was attached to the bottom of it; this box had wires running out of it that attached to something inside that he couldn't quite see. Before his nimble fingers could find out for him, a red button-like object on the base caught his attention. He set down the box lightly and tried to push the button, but it would not push in, nor would it turn like a knob. Then he spied a cord with a black knob on the end that looked like it fit into a hole in the base that he found a few seconds later. So he tried it. As soon as he did, the red button lit up.
"Now that's funny…" Pippin muttered to himself, cocking his head to one side as he tried to puzzle out the riddle.
"Herr Kommandant?" a female voice suddenly asked from the box.
Pippin yelped in surprise and jumped backward.
"Wha' was that?!" Merry asked.
"It… it TALKS!" Pippin stuttered.
"Ist es wichtig, Fräulein Hilda? Ich bin mit so furchtbar viel Schreibarbeit beschäftigt," whined a male voice.
"Tut mir Leid, Herr Kommandant, aber Herr Major Hochstetter ist hier und möchtet mit Ihnen sprechen."
Merry and Pippin looked at each other in astonishment.
"Ah, congratulations, Pippin! You found our bug in Klink's office," Hogan grinned as he and the others trooped back into the small room.
"A what?" all nine Fellowship members asked at the same time.
"An electronic listening device… well, basically, we have a little thing called a microphone hidden in Col. Klink's office, and it sends sounds through a wire into this speaker in the coffeepot basket." At the others' blank looks, Hogan shook his head slightly. "Never mind. I forget you don't have that kind of technology."
Boromir shook his head, amazed. "Horseless wains… listening devices that carry sound through wire… sparks that send messages thousands of miles in mere moments… verily, I can scarce believe that Men could create such wonders! Not because I doubt the ingenuity of Men," he added with a sidelong look at Legolas, who merely rolled his eyes.
"Ah, Herr Major Hochstetter! Freut mich, Sie wieder zu sehen," Klink's voice came over the speaker before the discussion could continue.
The POWs could almost picture Hochstetter's not-entirely-pleased expression. "Ja, ja, ja. Heil Hitler."
"Heil Hitler! Ähm… warum haben Sie Schultz mitgebracht?"
"Weil ich Hilfe von beide von Ihnen brauche…leider."
"What's going on?" Frodo asked. "I can't hear."
"It's in German anyway; I'll translate for you," Kinch, who was closest to the speaker, replied. "Major Hochstetter just arrived; he's a Gestapo agent. He says he needs Klink's help."
"Na, also, wie dürfen wir Ihnen helfen? Zigarre?" Klink asked.
"Nein, danke. Klink, einer meiner Soldaten war heute morgen getötet, als er einen Mitglied des Untergrunds verfolgte."
"Solche Ungeheuer!"
"He's reporting the death of the man Legolas shot," Kinch continued.
"Wir glauben, daß er mit einem Pfeil erschossen war."
"Shot with an arrow."
Legolas groaned.
"Was? Mit 'nem Pfeil? Gibt es jetzt wilden Indianer in unseren Wäldern?"
Schultz let out a short laugh.
"Was ist so lustig, Herr Feldwebel?" Hochstetter demanded.
"Entschuldigung, Herr Major," Schultz apologized. "Ich fand es nur lustig, weil wir einen Indianer hier bei Stalag 13 haben."
Kinch smiled wryly. "Klink asked if there were Indians in the woods, and Schultz laughed because, as he said, we have an Indian here."
"What's an Indian?" Merry wondered.
"Later…."
"Wer?" Klink sounded surprised. "Ich weiß von keinen."
"Doch, Herr Kommandant. Herr Feldwebel Kleineschnellundsicherdurchwaldgehendereh."
The POWs laughed at the German version of Carter's Indian name.
"He's talking about me," Carter explained to the confused Fellowship.
"You're an Indian?" Merry frowned.
"Partly… we'll explain more when we have time."
"Wie, bitte?" asked Hochstetter, confused.
"Ähm… auf Englisch heißt er Little Deer Who Goes Swift and Sure Through Forest."
"Und wer ist das, Schultz? Ich erkenne diese Name nicht." Klink was beginning to sound both confused and exasperated.
"Aber Sie kennen ihn doch, Herr Kommandant. Er ist der Feldwebel Carter."
"Klink didn't recognize the name, but Schultz explained," Kinch summarized.
"Carter, do you still have that bow?" Hogan asked his munitions expert.
"Yeah, but it's in the tunnel," Carter replied.
"Good. Run over and hang around outside Barracks 3 until Schultz comes for you. When they ask, you were taking care of LeBeau because he had a head injury and you were in my footlocker when Schultz came looking for Kinch."
"Got it."
"Good. Take off. Tiger, Aragorn, Gandalf, get everyone down in the tunnel and don't come up until we give you the signal."
"Keep them away from the tunnel entrance as long as you can, and I will ensure that none shall find us until we wish to be found," Gandalf replied as Boromir hustled Merry and Pippin out the door and Sam gingerly helped Frodo to his feet.
"It's a deal."
Aragorn scooped up Frodo and strode quickly across the hut to the tunnel entrance. Legolas, Sam, and Gimli followed, arriving beside Aragorn just as Boromir disappeared down the ladder. Tiger and Gandalf brought up the rear. Meanwhile, Hogan cleared away what little incriminating evidence they had left out while Newkirk bandaged LeBeau's head and Kinch monitored the debate raging in Klink's office. Hochstetter loudly proclaimed his suspicion of Carter; Klink asserted tirelessly that no one had ever escaped from Stalag 13; and Schultz protested that Carter couldn't have left the barracks between roll call and the time Klink asked to see Kinch ("because I would have seen him go out") and that even if he had escaped after that, he wouldn't have had time to make it to the site where the SS soldier was killed. It took them about 15 minutes to conclude that they needed to talk to Carter personally, then 15 more to send Schultz to find him and wait for Schultz's return; Hogan hoped that that had given Gandalf enough time to do whatever it was he had planned to do.
"What were you doing this morning, Sergeant?" the men in Barracks 2 finally heard Hochstetter ask.
"Taking care of LeBeau, sir," came the immediate reply. "He fell and hit his head."
"How come I didn't see you in there when I saw LeBeau earlier?" Schultz frowned.
"I was in Col. Hogan's footlocker."
"Whaaa'?" Klink's confused expression was all too obvious from the sound of his voice.
"What vere you doing in ze footlocker?" Hochstetter wondered.
"Uh, well, I… was backing up thinking about something else, and it was open, and I backed into it, and it knocked my knees out from under me, but instead of being able to sit down on the lid, I ended up inside. And then Schultz came in and I was kinda stuck and couldn't get out before he came into Col. Hogan's room, so I just decided it was less embarrassing to hide 'cause I can fit all the way inside it. And that's what I did."
Coming from Carter, the explanation was completely plausible.
"Now tell me, Carter, do you have experience with the bow and arrow?" was Hochstetter's next line of questioning.
"Oh, yeah, lots. I'm part Indian, y'know. Won a lot of trophies back home. But I haven't really done anything with it for a long time."
"Do you think you still could shoot well?"
"Gosh, I dunno… they say it's like riding a bike—once you learn, you don't forget—but I am awful rusty. And I'd have to have a bow and arrow to shoot with; archery skills aren't much use without a weapon, y'know. And they're hard to come by around here."
"Could you make one, possibly?"
"Well, I could, but you have to have the right kind of wood, the right materials for the bowstring, the fletch, the arrowheads… it'd be awful hard to do with just the stuff you find around a POW camp."
"Beautiful, isn't he?" Hogan said appreciatively. Kinch beamed back at him.
"Sketch an arrowhead for me, if you would, please," Hochstetter urged.
"Oh, okay… d'ya mind my asking what this is all about?" Carter replied with just the right shade of confusion.
"Nothing important; just routine."
"Okay…." The next few seconds were dead air, with the possible exception of something that could have been static or a pencil scratching across paper.
"Thank you. Can you tell me what sort of tribe would make an arrowhead that looks like this?" Hochstetter presumably handed Carter another sketch.
"No… no, I don't think I've ever seen an arrowhead like that, 'least not among the tribes I know."
"Thank you, Sergeant Carter. You've been most helpful. You are dismissed."
There was the sound of a door closing.
"Er lügt," spat Hochstetter.
"Aber, Herr Major, er erkannte die Pfeilspitze nicht," Schultz argued.
"Das ist mir egal. Er weiß mehr, als er sagte. Wir durchsuchen Baracke 2 nach diesem Pfeil, und ich glaube, wir werden etwas finden!"
Hogan unplugged the coffeepot. "All right, places, everyone, it's showtime!"
Carter came running in about thirty seconds later. "Here they come, Colonel!"
It was then that they noticed that Sgt. Potowsky, one of the Polish prisoners in Barracks 2, had sacked out on the top bunk above the tunnel. Potowsky was practically narcoleptic, and at times the only way to rouse him was to make loud noise directly beside his ear. The other men sometimes wondered how he had made it into the Polish Air Force.
"How long has Potowsky been up there?" Kinch asked Olsen.
"Oh, 'bout 15 minutes, I'd guess," Olsen replied.
"So he's dead to the world by now."
"Yeah. Why, we expecting company?"
"Yeah, any second now."
"Oh, boy…."
Olsen started to run over and wake him, but Kinch caught his arm. "Never mind, no time. We just gotta hope nobody notices… or that whatever Gandalf did to the tunnel entrance worked."
Just then the door opened and Hochstetter, his goons, Klink, and Schultz came in. Everyone scrambled to their feet—everyone except Potowsky, that is.
"Well, Major Hochstetter! Haven't seen you in a long time," Hogan greeted the Gestapo agent as he came out of his office. "Social call?"
Hochstetter glowered at Hogan and looked around, doing a double take when he caught sight of Potowsky. "What is zat man doing on the bed asleep?!" he demanded.
"Oh, that is Sgt. Potowsky, Herr Major," Schultz explained. "He is a very heavy sleeper."
"Well, wake him up. We will search every inch of this barracks, even if we have to prop him against ze vall while we search that bunk!"
"Jawohl, Herr Major." Schultz bustled over to the bunk and slapped the ball of his hand against the frame of the top bunk right below Potowsky's head. "POTOWSKY! Wake up!" the guard shouted.
Potowsky awoke with a jerk. The tunnel entrance did not open; the system of pulleys and ropes did not even rattle. The men relaxed imperceptibly.
A rather loud moan emanated from Hogan's office. Newkirk poked his head through the door a moment later.
"Shhh, Schultz, d'ye have to shout so?" Newkirk hissed. "Louis' still got a splittin' 'eadache, and you just made it worse!"
"I'm sorry," Schultz stage-whispered back, "but I had to wake up Sgt. Potowsky."
Potowsky, groggily trying to get down from the bunk, turned beet red and shot Newkirk an apologetic and sheepish smile.
The three SS men conducted a rapid but thorough search that turned up nothing. Klink looked vindicated; Hochstetter looked vexed; and Schultz studiously avoided displaying any emotion that might earn him a trip to the Russian front. As soon as the Germans left, the men crowded around the tunnel entrance.
"Why didn't it open, Colonel?" Olsen frowned. "Schultz hit it in just the right spot. It should have popped open like a girl jumping out of a cake."
"Nice analogy," someone remarked.
"I dunno," Hogan replied to Olsen's question. "My guess is that Gandalf jammed the mechanism somehow so it wouldn't open."
"How could he? It's not an easy mechanism to jam; I made sure of it," Kinch retorted.
"Just stand back, okay? Need to give 'em room to get out."
The men complied, and Hogan reached under the lower bunk and gave three long taps followed by two short ones on the section of floor that covered the entrance.
Nothing happened for about 15 seconds. Then the familiar rattle of wood, rope, and metal filled the room as the tunnel entrance flew open.
Gandalf was first out of the tunnel. "Everything worked out satisfactorily, I trust?" he asked.
"For us, at least," Hogan grinned. "I think Hochstetter's a little upset at not finding Legolas' arrow anywhere, and they came awfully close to finding the tunnel, but we're in the clear."
"Good. Glad to hear it."
After everyone was back in the barracks and Carter was dispatched to find a cold compress and some mild pain medicine for Frodo, Hogan pulled Gandalf aside. "What did you do to the tunnel entrance?" he asked quietly. "I mean, I'm grateful for whatever it was, but it was like you froze the entire thing, pulleys and all. How'd you do it?"
Gandalf's eyes twinkled mischievously as he replied, "I believe the saying is 'That's for me to know and you to find out.' Now if you'll excuse me, Aragorn and I have a patient to tend."
Gandalf walked away, and Hogan was left shaking his head and chuckling. I don't know how much I believe in magic, the American thought to himself, but in one way he's just like Newkirk: He never tells his secrets.
1. "Herr Kommandant?"
"Is it important, Fräulein Hilda? I'm terribly busy with paperwork."
"I'm sorry, Herr Kommandant, but Major Hochstetter is here to see you."
2. "Ah, Major Hochstetter! How nice to see you again!"
"Ja, ja, ja. Heil Hitler."
"Heil Hitler! Um… why did you bring Schultz in with you?"
"Because I'm going to need help from both of you—unfortunately."
"Well, then, how can we help you? Cigar?"
"No, thank you. Klink, one of my men was killed this morning while pursuing a member of the Underground."
"Those barbarians!" [literally, "Such monsters!"]
"We believe that he was shot with an arrow."
"What? With an arrow? Are there wild Indians loose in the woods now?"
"What's so funny, Sergeant?"
"Excuse me, Major. I only thought it was funny because we have an Indian here at Stalag 13."
"Who? I don't know of any."
"It's true, Herr Kommandant. His name is Little-fast-and-sure-through-forest-going-deer."
"Huh?"
"Ah… in English the name is Little Deer [. . .]."
"And who is that, Schultz? I don't recognize that name."
"But you do know him, Herr Kommandant. It's Sergeant Carter."
3. "He's lying."
"But Major, he didn't recognize the arrowhead."
"I don't care [more literally, that's all one to me]. He knows more than he told us. We will search Barracks 2 for this arrow, and I believe we will find something!"
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