The sheriff told me ~ s the hrmy s job to get[.the Nazis off the train and into the prison camp， but I riggerlthey ll be mighty glad to have us Scouts on hand. And if any|of those rats try to make a getaway"--he slapped the leather.encased Scout ax strapped to his waist--"we know what to o. ~ I looked around for a friendly group to join. Mary Wrenwas holding onto the arm of Reverend Benn s wife as thoughthat was going to provide her with the Lord s own protection.There are plenty of jokes going around about our town s tele-phone operator. People say Mary is so generous that she llgive you the gossip right off her tongue. Then I saw old Chester， the colored porter from my father sstore， closing his eyes against the brilliant June sun. I walked over. "Hey， Chester， don t you think this is themost exciting thing that has ever happened to our town?" His eyes jerked open. "I m going back to the stock roomright now， Miss Patty. Ain t been gone more n two， maybethree minutes." "Don t go on account of me， Chester. I won t tell my fa.ther. Honest." Chester smiled wide enough to show his gold tooth. "I ve never in my whole life seen a German， I mean，i in person. Have you ?" I ，，T " i seen some foreigners once， but they was fortune-tellin~ gypsies." I looked over to where Sheriff Cauldwell， Mr. George :. Henkins， the president of the Jenkinsville Rotary Club， and Mr. Quentin Blakey， editor of the Rice County Gazette， were standing on the gray-white gravel. "I wonder what the sheri~ is saying about all this，" I said， heading toward them. Mr. Blake~ s head was pitched back to look into the sun-andAeather face of the sheriff. "I said， Captain， I knowyou re only doing your job as a public information officer，but I ll never understand why I m not supposed to writeabout what everybody here already knows about. " "That s telling him， Quent，" said the sheriff， lookingamused. "More to it than that，" said Mr. Blakey. "Captain wouldn ttell me how many POW camps there are or where they relocated， but after awhile he forgot about security--told methat up in Boston they got a bunch of Italian prisoners whodo nothing but clean up after the elephants in FranklinPark" Sheriff Cauldwell leaned his big head back and laughedthe laugh of the healthy. "Captain wasn t talking security， hewas talking crap." From down the tracks; a whistle. Jimmy Wells ran overto one of the rails， dropped to his knees， and pressed his earagainst it. His features were molded into Dane Clark s odds-are-against-us-but-we-can-do-it expression as he announced，"She s a-coming!" All talking stopped and the small clusters of people beganmerging into one single mass. Even Chester， the only Negro，was now standing in arm-touching contact with whites. Then amid hissing， steamy clouds of white， the trainbraked， screeched， and finally came to a halt. From the crowd a woman s voice--it may have beenReverend Benn s wife--asked， "Well， where are they ?" Jimmy Wells pointed to the last passenger car. "There! ~