They
had both had experience in football and it stood them in good stead now.
The man went down, both boys literally swarming all over him.
"I've got his legs, Hugh," cried Bob. "Grab his arms."
The man kicked and struggled with all the strength that was in him. Bob
hung on for dear life, however. He held one of the man's feet in each
hand and threw his body across his legs to hold them down. Hugh scrambled
forward and hurled his entire weight across the man's chest. Their
prisoner's fists were going like flails, but Hugh persisted. The thought
of this German plotting against the United States was more than he could
endure and he dealt the man a stunning blow squarely in the face.
A moment later the man's arms and legs were tightly pinned to the ground
while the two boys sat astride him, complete masters of the situation.
"I'd like to pound his head off," cried Bob fiercely. "Just look at
that fire."
The bomb had done its work, and already the flames were mounting higher
and higher over the damaged portion of the factory.
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