"Made in Germany," yelled Spud, giving him one full on the waist-line. He staggered and fell into a writhing mass of Germans and Militiamen. Micky Cameron was seen furiously belting a stout little German, with one hand; with the other he was rapidly relieving him of his watch, money, and trinkets, including a few silver napkin rings which the waiter had "borrowed" as a present for the Kaiser. Beefy Duncan found a fiendish delight in flattening the nose of Adolph Squarehead, the late boots of The Grand; while they nobly strived to tap blood and gather as much loot as possible in the struggle. It was a titanic conflict. Blood, skin, and hair were flying like snowflakes. Faces resembled lumps of beefsteak instead of respectable features. And although the Militia were outnumbered, they struggled bravely on. At last there was a cry of "Surrender." The Germans shrieked for mercy, while the stationmaster vainly implored for peace. An armistice was granted, during which the enemy gathered up their false teeth, collars, and other displaced apparel. "Fall in now," ordered Lance-Corporal Tamson, as he wiped his bleeding nose. "Quick march," and out of the station marched the escort with their captures. Hundreds had gathered and followed the convoy along. Spud headed straight for the Officers’ Mess. There was no halt on arriving at the door. He marched them into the anteroom, where Colonel Corkleg and his officers were enjoying an evening smoke. All were startled at the sight of the twenty bleeding and battered Germans as well as the rowdy-looking escort. Before they had recovered, the whole lot was in the room, and Spud Tamson standing to attention at their head. "What the devil do you mean, corporal?" roared the colonel. "Twenty prisoners, sir. They’re a’ spies. We captured them at the station." "In the name of the Kaiser, I protest——" "Haud yer tongue—I’m speakin’," said the corporal to the Consular gentleman. But the colonel had realised that this assault on these Germans was a breach of the Convention. It was awkward, and although he had no love for the enemy he knew that International law permitted their being mobilised and shipped to their country. The colonel felt an inward pride as he surveyed the bleeding captures, but he had to assume the mask of duty. Turning to the adjutant he said, "Place this corporal and all of our men in the guardroom; I will see them to-morrow." Turning to the Germans, the colonel remarked in his best official tone, "I’m sorry, gentlemen, that you should have been assaulted. It is all through the ignorance of my men, as you see——" "In the name of the Kaiser, I pro——" "Very well," interjected the colonel, "you may lodge that protest when we arrive in Berlin. Now, you may go," he said, pointing to the door. Gladly they tripped to the station. Another train conveyed these battered Teutons to the Port of Hull, where they found a steamer for Lagerland.