Guarding his head as well as he could with one upraised arm, Jack struck right and left with his revolver butt. A man sprang at him with a heavy wrench, but the lad caught it, by a quick move, on his revolver. It saved his head, but the weapon went to the floor in a thousand pieces.
Jack grappled with this antagonist, and, by a quick twist of the arm, whipped the wrench from his opponent's hand. It rose and fell and the German toppled over.
Colonel Von Roth, now the only man in the room armed, stood off to one side, trying in vain to bring his revolver to bear upon Jack. He was afraid to fire, however, for fear of hitting one of his own men. Hither and thither he darted around the struggling mass of men, attempting to get a clear shot at the lad.
Suddenly Jack stooped near the door of one of the furnaces and picked up a heavy iron poker. With this he laid about him right lustily, and in a moment had cleared a little circle about himself. The rest of the English, driven back by the Germans, were still fighting desperately at the opposite side of the room.
Now that Jack was standing alone, he made an excellent target for Colonel Von Roth's revolver and the colonel was not slow to realize it.
Quickly he raised the revolver and fired; but at that same moment Jack suddenly took two rapid steps forward, and the bullet whistled harmlessly over his head.
The lad raised his eyes from the rest of his opponents for a brief instant, and in that instant realized that the colonel had singled him out for his bullet.
With a sudden fierce bellow he raised his heavy poker in both hands, and plunged into the thick of the conflict. There was no stopping him now. His rush was irresistible. He bore down upon the foe like a human catapult.
Heavy wrenches, pieces of steel, nuts and bolts were hurled at him. Some struck him and some flew past. But to these he paid no heed. Strong as a lion he fought his way on. The Germans retreated before this fighting figure of sinew and muscle; they quailed before his grim set mouth and the gleam in the eye of him.
With mighty strokes he swept them aside with broken heads and arms and limbs. His object now was Colonel Von Roth, who still stood at the far end of the room, his revolver raised, ready to fire.