trained eye of one of the basest murderers and criminals in Poland
would now recognize him, no matter where they met.

Warren knew that he must gain access to the den, but how?

Thinking rapidly, he resolved to wait until the men again left the
place, when he would rap at the door, and try to get in on whatever
excuse he might need to invent when the moment arrived. He crossed the
street, and entered an abandoned building. For two hours he waited in.
biding, never suspecting the anxious scrutiny he himself was
undergoing.

His wrist watch told him that noon was past. There was no sign of life
in the street. Remembering the loads of provisions that the men had
carried, he decided that they did not intend to come out of their
hiding place until nightfall. That would give him time to return,
report to the anxious watchers at home, and consult with Ivan and the
other Boy Scouts.

With Warren, to decide was to act. He hurried through the shattered
streets, wondering what the careful Evelyn had kept for him to eat.

As he turned the corner he saw before the house a group of people who
seemed to be regarding it curiously. Warren hastened his steps.
Pushing through the group, he entered. The door, torn from its hinges,
swung against the wall. In the hall a heavy chest of drawers was
overturned and the drawers piled together on the floor. The contents
were scattered everywhere. Calling the names of the family, Warren
dashed through the rooms, vainly hoping to find some trace of his
people, or some explanation of the new disaster. Returning to the