“Up out of there, you American pig!” he commanded.
Chester glanced at the man idly, but said nothing. Neither did he get to his feet.
But the lad was moved from his position by the square toe of the guard’s heavy boot. Away went Chester’s thoughts of caution. With a single move, he seized his pick and sprang forward. The guard gave ground.
The pick flashed above the lad’s head and then came down sharply. The German escaped the blow by a quick leap backward. Instantly he lowered his rifle and there was a flash and a report. Chester heard the bullet sing past his ear.
There came a tramping of hurried feet as other guards, fearing a concerted revolt, rushed to the aid of their companion. Gleams of hope lighted the eyes of the prisoners. Hardly a man there who, at one time or another, had not thought of escape, and now, to many, it seemed that the time was ripe.
They rushed into the melee.
Came the sound of blows and curses in the half-light. Several rifles spoke.
Hal, realizing Chester’s danger, in spite of the aches in his limbs, sprang to his feet and dashed into the knot of struggling men. British arms struck out right and left. Frenchmen kicked out with their heavy boots and bit and clawed. Hal and Chester, the only Americans below ground in this section, fought swiftly and silently.
But there was only one possible ending for a struggle such as this. Had the movement been preconceived and launched in a concerted attack, the result might have been different, although even that is doubtful. As it was, outnumbered and with all the firearms in the hands of the Germans, it was only a matter of minutes until the prisoners must be subdued.
Among the most prominent in the fight was the Englishman Harding. He was a powerful man, as Hal had noted at first glance. Day after day of toil in the mines had added wonderfully to his strength and he now laid about with his pick with the fury of a madman.