"You say you can hear the enemy working?" he said.

"Yes, sir."

"Near?"

"Pretty near, sir."

"How near?"

"A few yards."

"What do you propose to do?"

Bertie the Badger--in private life he was a consulting mining engineer
with a beautiful office in Victoria Street and a nice taste in
spats--scratched an earthy nose with a muddy forefinger.

"I think they are making a defensive gallery, sir," he announced.

"Let us have your statement in the simplest 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?"