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"That's the part of it I don't like," muttered Slim with a shudder. "It isn't so bad when you are firing into a whole company or regiment and see men fall. At least, it doesn't seem so bad, for you don't know just which ones you hit and which ones some one else bowled over. But in this individual close-range stuff it leaves a nasty feeling."

Walen read out their last observations, and Mankeltow asked questions, and Lord Lundie sort o' summarised, and I looked at the photos in the album. 'J'ever see a bird's-eye telephoto-survey of England for military purposes? It's interestin' but indecent like turnin' a man upside down. None of those close-range panoramas of forts could have been taken without my Rush Silencer.

He didn't think his gun would make much impression on anything of that size, and while several of the ship's mining tools could be employed as very effective close-range weapons, they happened, unfortunately, to be stored away on the same deck. He found Kerim standing in the center of the instrument room, waiting for him. "Gefty," she said, "do you notice anything? An odd sort of smell...."

We found that here less damage had been done from heavy artillery, but all the edifices had suffered from close-range rifle fire. An English sentry was pacing up and down in front of the town hall. Over the entrance was nailed a Turkish towel on which a Red Cross was stained with human blood! "Prisoners?" I asked. "All wounded, thank you," was the courteous reply.

He glanced with sufferance at the window, which offered a close-range view of a whitewashed wall. "Then you weren't in the confidence of your client?" "The late Lord Woldo?" "Yes." "Pardon me." "Obviously you weren't in his confidence as regards this particular matter." "As you say," said Mr. Vulto, with frigid irony. "Well, what are you going to do about it?" "Well nothing." Mr.

Now he leveled his shotgun and banged away. It was a close-range hit, and the head of the wildcat was almost blown from the body. It was several seconds before the three boy hunters realized that the battle was at an end. Slowly Whopper turned over and looked at the two dead animals. He rose to his feet, panting heavily. "Are they bo -both dead?" he asked. "As dead as nails," answered Snap.

The battle, nevertheless, had been fiercely contested, and the strain of constant vigilance and close-range fighting had told on the Light Division. Every lieutenant who had to change position did so at the risk of his life.

The salient of Baquerolle Farm, which it had cost valuable lives to reach, was retained. On the morning of April 13 the enemy, under cover of a dense mist, which allowed his use of close-range artillery, attacked St. Floris, in front of which the Gloucesters were stationed.

"You are right," whispered Frank Hoskins, "but you'd better not talk any more about it now or some Boche may try the same close-range stuff on us." Warned to silence by the lieutenant, they continued to creep along, only a foot or so at a time, stopping every few minutes to listen intently to see if their presence had been discovered.

That inference was obvious, but Colwyn saw more in the two holes than that. It seemed to him that the live ring of flame caused by the close-range shot must have been extinguished by the murderer, or it would have continued to smoulder and expand in an ever-widening circle. And that thought led to another of much greater significance.