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Driscoll, James R. [pseud.]

"The Brighton Boys with the Flying Corps"

He was eager enough to see that
the boys were well hidden, and before he climbed down the ladder
he piled bundle after bundle upon them, as if preferring that they
should be smothered rather than discovered by the dreaded Boches.
That was a tiring day, a hungry, thirsty day, but the boys lay as
still as mice. From where they lay they could see a sufficient
number of Germans passing and repassing along the road and across
the bridge to hourly remind them of the necessity of keeping close
cover.
At night, before nine o'clock, they climbed down from their hiding-place,
went to the edge of the river, undressed, and waded out neck-deep.
Dicky stepped on a stone that rolled over and in righting himself
splashed about once or twice. In a moment a deep voice could be
heard from the opposite bank, growling out, _"Was ist das?"_ The
boys kept perfectly still, and heard the German call out for someone
to come. Quietly each of the boys ducked his head and gently waded
back under water to the shelter of their own bank.


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