lest possible language,
please," said Colonel Kemp. "Some of my younger officers," he added
rather ingeniously, "are not very expert in these matters."

Bertie the Badger thereupon expounded the situation with solemn
relish. By a defensive gallery, it appeared that he meant a lateral
tunnel running parallel with the trench-line, in such a manner as to
intercept any tunnel pushed out by the British miners.

"And what do you suggest doing to this Piccadilly Tube of theirs?"
inquired the Colonel.

"I could dig forward and break into it, sir," suggested Bertie.

"That seems a move in the right direction," said the Colonel. "But
won't the Boche try to prevent you?"

"Yes, sir."

"How?"

"He will wait until the head of my tunnel gets near enough, and then
blow it in."

"That would be very tiresome of him. What other alternatives are open
to you?"

"I could get as near as possible, sir," replied Bertie calmly, "and
then blowup _his_ gallery."

"That sounds better. Well, exercise your own discretion, and don't get
blown up unless you particularly want to. And above all, be quite sure
that while you are amusing yourself with the Piccadilly Tube, the
wily Boche isn't burrowing past _you_, and under my parapet, by the
Bakerloo! Good luck! Report any fresh development at once."

So Bertie the Badger returned once more to his native element and
proceeded to exercise his discretion. This took the form of continuing
his aggressive tunnel in the direction of the Boche defensive gallery.
Next morning, encouraged by the absolute silence of the enemy's
miners, he made a farther and final push, which actually landed him in
the "Piccadilly Tube" itself.

"This is a rum go, Howie!" he observed in a low voice to his
corporal. "A long, beautiful gallery, five by four, lined with wood,
electrically lighted, with every modern convenience--and not a Boche
in it!"

"Varra bad discipline, sir!" replied Corporal Howie severely.

"Are you sure it isn't a trap?"

"It may be, sirr; but I doot the oversman is awa' to his dinner, and
the men are back in the shaft, doing naething." Corporal Howie had
been an "oversman" himself, and knew something of subterranean labour
problems.

"Well, if you are right, the Boche must be getting demoralised. It is
not like him to present us with openings like this. However, the first
thing to do is to distribute a few souvenirs along the gallery. Pass
the word back for the stuff. Meanwhile I shall