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Altsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander), 1862-1919

"The Forest of Swords A Story of Paris and the Marne"

"
"That being the case," said John, "I'm going to make my body as small as
possible, and push myself into the ground if I can."
He lay very close, but the rifle fire quickly passed to other portions
of the wood, and then died away entirely. John straightened himself out
and saw the biplane becoming smaller, as it flew off in the direction
whence it had come.
"I hope you'll come to no good," he said, shaking his fist at the
disappearing plane. "You've scared me half to death with your shots, and
I hope that both your rudders will get out of gear and stay out of gear!
I hope that the wheel controlling them will be smashed up! I hope that
the top plane will crash into the bottom one! I hope that a French shell
will shoot your tail off! And I hope that you'll tumble to the earth and
lie there, nothing but a heap of rotting wood and rusty old metal!"
"Well done, Mr. Scott!" said Weber. "That was quite a curse, but I think
it will take something more solid to disable the biplane."
"I think so too, but I've relieved my feelings, and after a man has done
so he can work a lot better. What are we to look for now, Weber? We
don't seem to have success in attracting anything but Germans. If Lannes
is coming at all, as you think he will, he'll get a pretty late ticket
of admission to our reserved section of the air."
"You must remember that the sky above us is a pretty large place, and at
any rate we're a drawing power. We're always pulling something out of
the ether.


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