extraordinary roar the earth lifted
skyward, thousands of tons of it rising in a weird black mass flecked
with tongues of crimson flame. Higher and higher it mounted, preceded by
dense black smoke that afterwards hung for an hour or more above the
battlefield. Woods and trenches, men lying out dead in the open--the
whole landscape was reddened by the glare, and as it faded out the
debris from the explosion rained over a wide radius in a deadly shower.

Chimney, buildings, barbed wire, everything had disappeared, and where
the brewery had stood the moment before a huge crater now yawned.

"You admit there was something in it, after all," said Dennis, unable
to repress a ring of exultation in his voice.

"Gee-whiz! I'll admit anything you like," replied his new acquaintance.
"There would have been some heavy hearts in Queensland if you hadn't
come along to-night. But, say, there goes the order for us to occupy
that hole. See you later on, I hope, Dashwood."

"I hope so," responded Dennis, as the Australian Division sprang up and
bolted forward to dig themselves in.

"Now, lads, if you don't mind giving me another lift," said Bob. "It's
about time we were getting home. What do you say, Dennis?"

Dennis said nothing. He was holding his head in both hands; that last
explosion had left him more than ever convinced that it would fall into
two halves if he were not very careful.

And meanwhile, Von Dussel, with an evil grin, was making his way to the
German headquarters to report to General Von Bingenhammer that an
English shell had exploded the mine before the Anzac Division had
reached the brewery.

"Ah, you Dashwoods, you!" he murmured, rolling the name round his tongue
as though it were a sweetmeat, "I should like to go to sleep, for I am
very tired, but I should not like to be sleeping as sound as you.
Himmel! You must have lived a lifetime in that last half-hour on earth!"

Somewhere about the moment when the scoundrel was indulging in those
pleasant reflections, Bob's bearers had reached the British parapet,
and, helping the Captain over, they set him down for a moment with a
grunt of relief.

"I have no words for you, boys," he said. "But your devotion shall not
be forgotten."

"'Arf a mo, sir," interrupted Harry Hawke, with an expressive wink at
Tiddler, and they had him up again between them in the twinkle of an
eye.

"No, no," expostulated Bob Dashwood. "I shall do very well now."

"Yus, sir, but we s