"Good for the D.C.M.," yelled Alderhame. "Come on, lads. Let's see if any of the swine are still in this rat-hole."
"Give 'em another bomb first," suggested Ginger. "Stand by, 'ere goes."
The men waited until the reverberations of the explosion had died away; then looked at each other enquiringly.
"Come on," shouted Alderhame, unfixing his bayonet and placing his rifle against the concrete face of the dug-out. Then, borrowing a bomb from the obliging Anderson, he led the way into the underground refuge, while Setley following, closely at his heels, flashed a torch over his comrade's shoulder.
The place reeked vilely of sulphurous smoke. It had been lighted by electricity, but the concussion had shattered the bulbs. The Hun who had hurled the bomb was lying across the fifth step. A little lower down two more were huddled lifeless against the walls. Another, dangerously wounded, raised one hand in a mute appeal for mercy.
"All right, Fritz," said Alderhame. "We won't hurt you any more."
This was apparently the last of the original occupants of the dug-out. For thirty-five steps the two chums descended cautiously, while at some distance behind came Penfold, Anderson and another man being left to guard the entrance in case an over-zealous Tommy took it into his head to throw down a bomb "just for luck."
"Look out!" cautioned Setley. "There's someone still there."
Muttered guttural words and suspicious scuffling confirmed Ralph's statement. The ex-actor made ready to pull out the safety pin of this bomb.
"Surrender!" he shouted, "or I'll blow the crowd of you to Hades."