"They knocked me about a bit," declared Bartlett. "Thought I was kidding them, I suppose, but as it was the right way as far as they were concerned they got a bit more civil. Finally, when the bombardment commenced they pushed me down this dug-out. Crikey! I thought the roof was tumbling in every second, and fifty feet below ground at that. Then when the bomb was chucked down the stairs the Huns here knew the game was up. They nearly fell over themselves trying to get me to take them prisoners--and there they are." "Any way out there?" asked Setley, pointing to a door at the remote end of the underground room. "Don't know," said Bartlett. "I'll soon see." He came back with the information that it led only to a smaller room, evidently set apart for non-commissioned officers. "Good enough," declared Ralph. "We'll leave the prisoners here until we can send them to the advance-cages." "You our lives save?" enquired a Hun corporal anxiously. "Yes, if you behave yourselves," said Bartlett. "We won't drop a bomb amongst you as we clear out. That's not the British way, you know." Collecting the captured rifles and side-arms, the three Wheatshires returned to the open air, where Ginger greeted his restored pal with grim Cockney humour. "Wot, more of 'em dahn there?" he asked. "S'welp me. 'Ere goes." Like a terrier after a swarm of rats Anderson was about to plunge down the flight of steps when Bartlett arrested his movements. "It's no go," he said. "We've promised them quarter." "After they tried to do the dirty on us," grumbled Ginger, still fumbling with the safety-pin of a bomb. "I'll give 'em quarter--not 'arf." Sidney barred his way. Setley and Alderhame joined in an attempt to check the ferocious ardour of their comrade. How the dispute might have ended if allowed to continue must remain in doubt, for a heavy shell, landing in the bay of the captured trench, exploded and threw the four men to the ground. Half buried with debris they extricated themselves, none the worse except for a severe shaking. All thoughts of the dispute were forgotten. The Wheatshires were occupying the captured section of the trench, the men toiling strenuously to convert the parados into a parapet. A hundred yards to the right the Huns still held their own. A traverse, heavily defended with machine-guns, had proved too great an obstacle to be rushed in a frontal attack. To the rear of the Wheatshires' position was the barbed wire entanglement that had held up the luckless Coalshires; in front the Germans were massing for a gigantic counter-attack, while on the right of the British battalion the Blankshires had been compelled to give ground. Added to this the German guns had got the exact range of the captured section of trenches, while inexplicably the British artillery were putting up a barrage in front of a position where the Huns had made no serious effort to counter-attack.