"Not so fast," replied a Prussian, speaking in English, and with hardly a trace of a foreign accent. "Let us discuss the situation."
"By all means," agreed Captain Nicholson, confident that he held the winning cards.
The Hun who had spoken was carefully noting the strength of the intruders. He had a particular object in gaining time.
"You are too premature, Herr Kapitan von Anzaken," he continued slowly. The boot is on the other leg. You are our prisoners. Nein--do not get excited--consider: you are but a handful. We are fourteen, all armed. In there"--he indicated a doorway on his left--"are fifty tons of explosives, so I would not have you throw a bomb, for our sakes and yours. Again, I have but to touch this button and the tunnel to the dug-out by which you made your approach will be blown in. We have particular need of you, since your friends will hesitate twice before attempting to smoke us out with you here. Now, to avoid further unpleasantness, you will throw down your arms and make surrender."
"I'll see you to blazes first!" retorted Nicholson. "Hands up, or----"
Like a flash a dozen hands went up--but each hand held an automatic pistol! The New Zealand officer made no attempt to back. Outwardly calm, he stood erect on the threshold, with his four men close behind him.
Confronting him were the obviously excited Huns. Even the slight pressure of a trembling finger upon the trigger of one of the automatic weapons would mean death to the imperturbable Nicholson.
"I give you ten seconds to surrender!" he exclaimed.
"And I give you five to throw down your arms!" retorted the Prussian major. "One--two--three----"
Crash!