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The last time I took some I lay awake all night." "Oh, but you must take coffee!" Madame Wachner spoke good-humouredly, but with great determination. "The small amount you have in that little cup will not hurt you; and besides it is a special coffee, L'Ami Fritz's own mixture" she laughed heartily. And again?
About three the next day, Fritz started "pup pupping" that tune. I blew a sharp blast on a whistle, it was the signal agreed upon; we turned loose and Fritz's gun suddenly stopped in the middle of a bar. We had cooked his goose, and our ruse had worked. After firing two belts each, to make sure of our job, we hurriedly dismounted our guns and took cover in the dugout. We knew what to expect soon.
Her mother didn't seem to care what he said or did. She went on walking by herself, as hard as she could lay her feet to the ground. And what do you suppose her excuse was? Her nerves were out of order! Mr. Fritz's notion is that there is something weighing on her mind. An hour afterwards she came back to the house and I found reason to agree with Mr. Fritz." "Tell us all about it, Joseph!
I reached the chalk-pit safely and then, cutting across direct to the gun pits, I took up my original position and awaited Fritz's good pleasure to send a few more crump to provide me with scenes. But not a shell came over. Before leaving this section I thought I would film Contalmaison, a name immortalised by such fighting as has rarely been equalled even in this great war.
How many is not known, but Landlord West, of Fritz's, says he is certain there were people on the rear porch of the Merchants'. The story of Landlord West's rival being thrown into his front windows has its parallels. Colonel Higgins, the manager of the Cambria Club House, was in the third story of the building with his family. Suddenly a man was hurled by the torrent rapidly through the window.
"But I do not think that any of it is likely to melt into Fritz's pocket though, to be sure, we 'ave been very lucky, all of us, to-night," she looked affectionately at Sylvia. "Even you, Sir" Madame Wachner turned to Chester with a broad smile "even you must be pleased that we came to the Casino to-night. What a pity it is you did not risk something! Even one pound!
On the evening of Thursday, the sixteenth of October, the Constable of Zenda was very much out of humor; he has since confessed as much. To risk the peace of a palace for the sake of a lover's greeting had never been wisdom to his mind, and he had been sorely impatient with "that fool Fritz's" yearly pilgrimage. The letter of farewell had been an added folly, pregnant with chances of disaster.
"One bomb must have splattered Fritz's electric plant," observed Joe, as he and his chums hurried on as best they could in the somewhat dim light of the little pocket lamp Blake carried. Hardly had he spoken when there came a tremendous explosion one that staggered the boys and seemed to crumple up the tunnel as though it were made of paper. They had no time to cry out.
He demanded in wrathy French "Who took you to the douches?" For a moment I was at a complete loss then Fritz's remark about the new baigneur flashed through my mind: "Ree-shar" I answered calmly. The bull snorted satisfactorily. "Get into the cour and hurry up about it" he ordered. "C'est par la?" I inquired politely.
We descended to the narrow pass, and found our drawbridge, plantation, all our fortification that my boys were so proud of, and where, at Fritz's request, I had even planted a small cannon, all, all destroyed; the cannon swallowed up with the rest. My boys deplored their disappointment; but I showed them how useless such a defence must ever be.
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