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ordered their men to shoot back. There were not many Germans in the barracks so they were all killed. A number of Italians were killed, too, and the rest had left the barracks. Some of them had taken rifles and ammunition, but many didn’t. These had stripped off their uniforms, and had left their guns in the barracks. They were pretending now to be civilians.
    The Nazis would probably take over the town, for they were already in firm control of the station and the railway to the Brenner Pass. They were playing a double game: they were backing the Fascist Italians, who were still working with theNazis, and they were trying to win the support of the Tyrolese. Some of the Tyrolese listened to the Germans, believing that Hitler would free them from the Italians as his secret propaganda had promised for many years. But other men of the Tyrol only saw the Germans as new dictators to oppress them.
    When Johann ended the colonel exchanged glances with the two majors. “At least,” he said, with a wry smile, “we are probably safe enough here for the next few hours. We have time to eat and finish our plans.”
    One of the majors—he was an American wearing Rangers’ insignia—said, “But it’s a hell of a set-up.”
    The other major nodded. “Absolutely.” He looked at Johann again. “It seems we have three kinds of Italians to deal with. Those who won’t fight at all; those who won’t fight against the Germans; and those who want to fight Germans. And there are two kinds of Tyrolese: those who are pro-Nazi, mainly because they hate the Italians; and those who hate the Nazis and who want to get rid of the Italians by themselves. That gives us five different sets of people to handle, not to mention the Germans.”
    “Personally,” the American said, “I’ll be glad when we come up against the Germans. At least, you know what to shoot there.”
    The colonel was still watching Johann. Half to himself he said, “If we only knew more about politics here we might be better able to—” He turned to Lennox. “Do you know anything about the political quarrels in this district?”
    “A little. But Johann could tell you much more, sir.”
    “If we had time...” the colonel said. “If I were sure of enough time...” He had started worrying again. “Pass out the food, anyway,” he said to the majors. “Share round any weaponsyou’ve found. Make a division of the men into those who are fit to travel and fight, those who are not. Find out their special branch of the service and decide how we can best use them.”
    The officers hurried away. The colonel still watched Johann.
    “Go ahead,” the older man said. He watched Lennox with thoughtful eyes.
    Lennox said quietly, “Johann, who told you to give the prisoners information? Who told you to spread the news among the guards so that they’d desert? Someone you met down in Bozen, when you were off duty today?”
    A careful look spread over Johann’s face, and wiped all the emotion out of it.
    “Someone told you, didn’t he, Johann?”
    Johann didn’t answer. I bet I’m right, Lennox was thinking. Johann was no fool; but there was a cleverer man than he would ever be behind all this.
    “I must leave,” Johann was saying. “I must go now. I have told you everything. I must go.”
    “To see this man?” tried Lennox.
    Johann looked at him unhappily. “Our plans have changed. I must report,” he admitted.
    “Changed? You mean the Germans who arrived here and are now killed have altered the plans?”
    Johann said nothing.
    “But, Johann, they are dead. They won’t inform. How can they alter any plans?”
    Johann still said nothing.
    Lennox looked at the officer. “Sorry, sir. That’s as far as we get.”
    “You didn’t do badly. At least you’ve discovered the boy ispart of an organisation. Pity he has suddenly shut up like this. Might have been helpful.”
    Jock Stewart appeared with a rough bandage round his head and a stack of thick sandwiches in his