Steve’s muscles relaxed instinctively, and as the spy’s body was drawn from his grasp, his bruised shoulders dropped back wearily against a supporting knee. Blinking, he stared upward at a vaguely familiar face bending over him. It was a moment or two before he recognized it as the face of the guard called Dick. Two others stood nearby and between them sagged the body of the prisoner, whose limpness proclaimed no gentle handling.