The few days that had elapsed since Max and Dale left Liege had already witnessed yet another development in the rapid conversion of the Durend workshops into a first-class manufactory of war material for the German army. A large building on the outskirts of the town had been taken over and converted into a filling-shop, and the shells manufactured within the works were conveyed thither on a miniature railway, and there filled with high-explosive drawn from a factory situated about a mile and a half away, well outside the limits of the town. This new shop was being staffed with men drawn partly from Germany and partly from former workmen of the less determined sort, who were gradually returning to work under stress of hunger. On Max and Dale applying for work they were promptly drafted to this shop. Fortunately for them, perhaps, the foreman who was now engaging fresh workmen was a man sent from Germany, a bullying, overbearing, Prussian foreman who was expected to bring the methods of the Prussian drill-sergeant to bear upon the poor half-starved wretches applying for work, and to reduce them to a proper state of submission. Max had no difficulty in satisfying the man, especially as he made no demur to working in the night shift. Few workmen cared for the night shift, and the foreman was therefore the more ready to clinch the bargain. Soon Max and Dale were being shown the way to fill the shells and finish them off, ready to be sent on their mission of destruction. "Things couldn't have happened better, Dale," remarked Max at the first opportunity. "Why, Max? We are safe inside; is that what you mean?" "Not exactly. What I mean is our being sent to the filling-shops. It's no end of a piece of luck." "Ah, I see! You are thinking of wrecking the place, eh?" "Possibly, later on. But what I mean is that for our plans we need explosives, and plenty of them. Well, here they are, ready to hand, and all we have to do for a start is to get what we want away unseen." "Aye; accumulate a store of our own ready for the day we want them?" "Yes; the best place to attack we can settle later. In fact we may have to seize our opportunities as they come along." "The best places to choose are these filling-shops, old man. Heaps of explosives about, and, although they watch everyone pretty closely, we ought to get a chance before long. If this place were blown sky-high it would damage a lot of the other shops, and probably get Schenk the sack. He seems to have got over that other affair all right." "Yes, but I can't bring myself to blow up this great place with all the workmen in it, Germans or renegade Belgians though they are. I want to cripple the works, not kill the work-people." "Don't see much in your scruples, Max. If we don't kill them they are left to go on sending shells out to kill our men."