ESPIONAGE: Death for the Saboteurs

A swank, black Packard whispered over the mud-covered asphalt street, drew up at the new south wing of the District of Columbia's ancient red-brick jail. Out in the rain stepped greying Coroner Dr. A. Magruder McDonald. In the dim-lit vestibule a dozen reporters sat on death watch for the eight submarine-borne Nazi saboteurs. Some of them had waited more than 24 hours. The Coroner had nothing to say. But his mere presence told them their vigil would soon be over.

Lights in the jail dimmed, as they always do when an electrocution is about to begin. But no official announcement...

Want the full story?

Subscribe Now


Learn more about the benefits of being a TIME subscriber

If you are already a subscriber sign up — registration is free!