CHAPTER XX
The Way Out
"So, you cat with nine lives, we've to thank you for this beautiful fix!" remarked Captain Nicholson after he had greeted his companions in misfortune.
"Don't know about that, sir," replied the bomber. "If I hadn't been nippy, those Huns would have plugged the lot of you, and more'n likely they would have got away. What were those coves doing with the pick and shovel, sir, if they didn't know there was a chance of getting out that way?"
"That passage is closed, at any rate," decided Captain Nicholson, glancing in the direction of the mound of debris and the displaced girders. "M'Kane and I have explored the entrance, There's been a big fall. The supplementary shoots are also choked. We followed a level working for nearly a hundred yards. It leads nowhere. Fritz never had time to finish it. Look here, this torch won't hold out for ever. The battery's running down. How's Selwyn?"
"Only suffering from shock, sir," replied Malcolm.
"All right; you can do nothing more so far as he is concerned," decided the officer. "We'll make a thorough search of these sleeping-quarters, and see if we can find any candles. Knowing the systematic thoroughness of Fritz, I guess he's taken precautions in the event of the electric light going out. By Jove," he added, as the dug-out trembled violently, "there's some strafing going on outside!"
A search resulted in the discovery of several oillamps and packets of candles. There was also food in considerable quantities and wine in bottles.
"I'd swop all that fizz for a pannikin of tea," declared Joliffe.
"You're never satisfied, chum," remarked M'Turk, deftly knocking off the neck of a bottle and taking a draught.