United States or Bolivia ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
It was not more than two and a half miles from the spot where Rockwell, in the month of May, brought down his first enemy machine. The Germans immediately opened up on the wreck with artillery fire. In spite of the bursting shrapnel, gunners from a near-by battery rushed out and recovered poor Rockwell's broken body.
"I pay my part for Lafayette, and Rochambeau," he said proudly, when asked what he was doing in a French uniform flying for France. And pay he did though not before making the Germans pay heavily for their part. Once, flying alone over Thann, he came upon a German scout. Without hesitation the battle was on. Rockwell's machine was the higher, had the better position.
Swaying as she went, Fleda half-blindly moved towards a chair near by and sank into it. She scarcely heard Jim's reply. "Looking all right yourself, Chief. You won't see much change in this here old town." Ingolby's hand was in Rockwell's. "It's all right, isn't it?" he asked.
Swooping close to the ground Rockwell saw its debris burning away brightly. He had turned the trick with but four shots and only one German bullet had struck his Nieuport. An observation post telephoned the news before Rockwell's return, and he got a great welcome. All Luxeuil smiled upon him particularly the girls. But he couldn't stay to enjoy his popularity.
If I said I could ride a moke, nobody would see it, and if it were seen it wouldn't make any impression; but to say I killed two mountain-lions with a jack-knife on the edge of a precipice, with the sun standing still to look at it, is as good as the original lie and better; and I score. My reputation increases." Nathan Rockwell's equilibrium was restored. "You're certainly a wonder," he declared.
As he looked round in that instant of ghastly silence he had observed almost mechanically that the old man's lips were murmuring something. Then the thought of Fleda Druse shot into Rockwell's mind, and it harassed him during the hours Ingolby slept, and after the giant Gipsy had taken his departure just before the dawn.
The damp of his brow was as the damp of death as Rockwell's lips touched it. "Old boy, old boy!" Rockwell said tenderly, "I wish it had been me instead. Life means so much to you and so little to me. I've seen too much, and you've only just begun to see." Laying him gently down, Rockwell summoned the nurse and Jim Beadle and spoke to them in low tones.
"On your own business, or Mr. Rockwell's?" "On my own business." "So I thought. I shall report you to Mr. Rockwell," said Gilbert, triumphantly. "I wouldn't, if I were you," said Dick, coolly. "And why not, you young rascal?" "Because he knows it already." "Knows it already," repeated the book-keeper, discomfited. "Well, I hope he gave you a good scolding."
"I hope you will have a pleasant time, Dick. Good-by till I see you again." Dick felt a little nervous, but he summoned up all his courage, and, ascending the broad marble steps, rang the bell. At the end of the last chapter we left Dick standing on the steps of Mr. Rockwell's residence in Madison Avenue. He had rung the bell and was waiting to have his summons answered.
Just about that time he had an opportunity to sell his up-town lots, to a gentleman who had taken a great fancy to them, for five times the amount he paid, or five thousand dollars. His savings from his salary amounted to about two thousand dollars more. Meanwhile Mr. Rockwell's partner, Mr.
Word Of The Day