As it developed, Hal had picked out the most difficult task for Sergeant Bowers and his men. As the door burst in under the blows of the marines, Sergeant Bowers, in advance, saw that the lower hall was filled with Germans.
But it was too late to draw back now. Besides, the lives of many Americans outside lay in the hands of these foes should the little party of Americans fail to conquer them.
“Down, men!” cried the sergeant, and the first volley from the Germans passed harmlessly over their heads.
“Fire!” shouted Sergeant Bowers, and from their positions flat on the floor the five marines swung their rifles into position and blazed away.
The Germans received the bullets standing. Apparently they had no leader of such quick decision as Sergeant Bowers.
“Up and at them!” shouted the sergeant.
With a cheer the little handful of marines obeyed orders.
Another volley the Germans fired, but their nerves appeared to have been shattered and the bullets went wild with one exception. A ball pierced Sergeant Bowers’ left shoulder.
With a yell of anger, Sergeant Bowers hurled his empty revolver into the very faces of the enemy and dashed forward with his naked hands, his big fingers twisting spasmodically.
“Shoot me, will you?” he howled. “Shoot me, will you? Take that!”