Hogan hurried past the rest of his men in the compound. He didn't have to tell them his plan went wrong, the look on his face said everything. Without a word, they abandoned the worn-out ball they'd been kicking around and followed Hogan into the barracks. LeBeau was the first to speak as the door shut behind them.

"What happened, Colonel?"

Hogan didn't answer as he began poking around the barracks, muttering, "Where is he?" in a low voice.

"Where is who, Colonel?" asked Carter.

Hogan headed to his quarters, where he paced anxiously. "That giant we're hiding must've wandered up for a breath of air and walked right into Schultz. Now Klink is convinced we're up to something and he's ordering reinforcements! And when Hochstetter gets wind of this, you can bet he'll come and take over the camp before you can blink."

Newkirk whistled. "Blimey, we'll never get our green friends out of 'ere now. Can't we just keep 'em down there until the 'eat blows off?"

Hogan shook his head. "No, we have to get them out as soon as possible."

He paused his pacing and sank down on his bunk, only to feel the cot squirm underneath him. He leaped up with a yelp of surprise. Kinch raised the mattress to reveal a terrified Herman curled up as tight as he could under the bunk.

"Munster!" Hogan yelled, "what were you thinking? You could get us all killed showing your face up here!"

"And not necessarily because the boshe find you," LeBeau muttered under his breath.

Herman struggled out from under the bunk with a somber expression.

"I'm sorry, Colonel, but I just had to get out of that tiny little room. My neck was beginning to cramp!"

"You'll have more than a cramped neck if anyone sees you. Now you've got to get back down there now!"

The flustered heroes pushed Herman across the room towards the trapdoor. They froze in place when the door swung open and Schultz shuffled inside. At the sight of Herman, his eyes doubled in size. He turned to run back to Klink's office, but Carter and Newkirk grabbed him before he could go anywhere. Herman backed himself against the wall.

"Golly! It's the same guard who spotted me before!"

"Colonel Hogan!" Schultz pleaded, "Hiding a monster in the barracks? This is going too far! I must report it to the Kommandant!"

"But you already reported him, Schultz!" Hogan replied.

Schultz paused. "I did?"

"Sure, just now when you stormed into the Kommandant's office?"

Schultz considered this for a moment. "But he didn't believe me!"

"So, that's his problem. If the subject ever comes up again, you can always say you did your duty like a dedicated German soldier."

Schultz smirked. "That's right, I did. That's never happened before."

Hogan ushered Schultz to the door.

"But I wouldn't mention this to anyone else, Schultz. You don't want the camp to go into a panic, would you? Then prisoners would start escaping and you'd end up at the Russian front and all sorts of unfortunate things."

Schultz gulped. "Right, I won't mention it. I see nothing and I know nothing."

When Schultz had left, Herman sank down on the nearest bunk. The wooden supports sagged under his weight but somehow stayed together.

"Colonel, is it really as bad as you say it is?" he asked.

"I'm afraid so. And your coming up here just made it ten times harder to get you out of camp."

"Fiddlesticks! Looks like I've goofed it again. When Grandpa finds out about this, he'll kill me!"

"It's a shame you can't use magic to get out," Carter mumbled.

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Newkirk.

"Well, Grandpa was showing me all sorts of cool tricks yesterday with his spells, but I kind of burned every single one of them."

"At least I never goofed that bad," said Herman.

"Tricks of the eye, Carter," Newkirk replied. "There's no such thing as magic, it just a slight-of-and trick, that's all."

"Oh no, you should've seen it. He made it snow underground!"

"That's right," said Herman, "Grandpa uses original magic formulas. He'd never stoop so low as to use those slight-of-hand tricks!"

Newkirk scoffed. "I'd love to see this performance, mate."

"He can't," Carter replied, "not without his spells."

"Oh yes, I can!" asserted a voice from the trapdoor. The bunk rose and Grandpa climbed up the ladder with surprising ease considering his age.

"Those spells were only complimentary. There are plenty of things I can do without any help at all!"

"Oh really?" Newkirk laughed, "like what?" Grandpa pointed his finger at the cards lying scattered among the remnants of the crushed table. The cards sprang into the air, spun around the room like autumn leaves, assembling themselves perfectly into a game of poker for four. Newkirk stared at the cards in awe. Carter smirked.

"D'you still believe it's slight of hand, pal?"

Hogan rubbed his chin in thought. Maybe this crazy kook and his monster could get themselves out of their own mess.

"Is that all you can do, play with cards?" he asked.

"Oh, I haven't even scratched the surface!" Grandpa chuckled.

"Then why don't you join me in my quarters and we'll talk about the best way to get you to London."