As the grim khaki figures sprang out on to the platform, the other German clubbed his rifle and made a dart for the head of the stairs, but the man Hawke had shot lay between him and liberty; and, tripping up, he plunged over the edge into space, clutched wildly at a broken beam that still spanned the ruined walls, and dropped with a sickening crash on to the floor below.
"Reckon he won't do that any more, sir," chuckled Harry Hawke; but Dennis had already jumped on to the sandbags, and was semaphoring wildly with both arms.
"Guns captured! Come on, you chaps!" he signalled. And as the message was seen and understood, a wild cheer rose from the other end of the street as the Highlanders and his own battalion jumped from their cover and tore forward at the double.
He would have liked to linger on that point of vantage, which afforded a fine view of the surrounding country; but their work was done, and he followed the others down the stair again, only pausing for a moment to secure poor Rogerson's identification disc as he passed him.
He found Hawke waiting at the stair-foot with a happy smile on his snub-nosed visage, and the pair ran out into the little square to mingle with the platoon which was going by at the double.
"Lumme!" exclaimed Harry Hawke, as a fearful burst of high explosive shook the very ground; and, looking over their shoulders, they saw the ruined tower they had just left sink to the ground amid a huge column of dust!
Their eyes met, but before either of them could speak Bob Dashwood's voice was heard shouting: "Look out, A Company! Ten rounds rapid, and load up for your lives! Here's a whole Bavarian battalion on top of us!"