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all was said and done, M tiller and Rendl would be left to face the music with little or no suspicion that he was still alive.
    "... and the home of the brave." Becker joined the startled Runstedt in the final line. Both Runstedt and Becker groaned repeatedly with the effort of dragging first one body and then another through the sewage pipe to the false cabinet in the biochemical research building. Intermixed with the sounds of their effort were the scratching and scraping of countless rats, scurrying about in the pitch darkness.
    The young farmer was, in height and frame, a virtual twin of Becker's. The older man, like Runstedt, was heavy, but taller than Runstedt by several centimeters.
    "Don't worry about the difference in your heights, Alfi," Becker had reassured him. "By the time the explosion and fire are through with these bodies, no one will want to get any closer to them than it takes to remove our watches, rings, identification medallions, and wallets." With Becker pushing from below, Runstedt hauled the corpses through the base of the cabinet and stretched them out on the wooden floor.
    "Perfect, perfect," Becker said, scrambling through the hole. "We are right on time." "Oberst," Alfi said, "I Page 7
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    have one question, if I may."
    "Of course."
    "How will we keep the tunnel from being discovered after the fire and explosion?"
    "Hah! An excellent point," Becker exclaimed. "One, I might add, that I am not at all surprised to have you make. I have kept the steel plate you removed to make the opening in the pipe. It fits perfectly, and stays in place with several small hooks I have welded on. With ashes and debris piled on top, I doubt the pipe will ever be discovered."
    ""Brilliant. Herr Oberst, you are a truly brilliant man."
    "Thank you, Unteroffizier. And now, we must check.
    Have you said anything to anyone which might suggest you are planning to leave tonight?"
    "No, sir."
    "Good. And have you told the men in your barrack that you will be working late in the laboratory with me?"
    "Yes, Oberst."
    "Wonderful. We are ready to arrange the ether, to set the charge and the timer, and to exchange clothes with our friends here."
    "Then it is off to hot dogs and Betty Grable," Alfi said.
    "Hot dogs and Betty Grable," Becker echoed. "But first a toast to our success thus far. Amaretto?"
    "Cheroots! Amaretto! My God, Oberst, how do you keep coming up with these things?" Alfi took the proffered glass, inhaled the wonderful almond scent, and then drained the liqueur in a gulp. The cyanide, its deadly aroma and taste masked, took just seconds to work.
    Becker was removing his uniform and jewelry as Runstedt, writhing and vomiting on the floor, breathed his last.
    With some effort, Becker dressed the young farmer in his own uniform, adding a ring, billfold, identification necklace, and, finally, Edwin's watch, an elegant piece which many in the camp associated with him.
    Next, he stepped back and, with the use of the hooded flashlight, surveyed the scene. Everything, everyone had to be perfectly placed.
    He undressed the farmer who was to have served as Alfi's double, tossed the clothes to one side, and then dumped the naked body down the tunnel. "Now, Alfi, my most loyal of servants, we must find a place for you."
    He shone the torch on the contorted, violet face by his feet.
    In minutes the arrangement was complete. The young farmer's body lay in the center of the laboratory, his face resting beside a laboratory timer and a five-gallon tin of ether. Several other tins were spaced throughout the dry, wooden building. Alfi's body lay near the door, as far from the explosive vapors as possible. It would be the validity of Runstedt's face which would assure acceptance of Becker's own demise.
    The simple elegance of the whole plan was as pleasing as a major research success, and Becker felt ballooned with pride as he made a final survey of the