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Reeve, Arthur B. (Arthur Benjamin), 1880-1936

"Guy Garrick"

"Duck! Back among the trees--until we get our bearings!"
Another bullet had whizzed just past his arm as he spoke.
We dodged back among the trees, and slowly skirted the edge of the
wood, where it bent around a little on the flank of the position
from which the continuous firing was coming.
At the edge we stopped again. We could go no further without
coming out into the open, and the moon, just rising, above the
trees, made us an excellent mark under such conditions. Garrick
peered out to determine from just where they were firing.
"Lucky for us that we had these coats," he muttered, "or they
would have croaked us, before we knew it. These are our old
friends, the anaesthetic bullets, too. Even a little scratch from
one of them and we should be hors de combat for an hour or two."
"Shall we take a chance?" urged Dillon.
"Just a minute," cautioned Garrick, listening.
The barking of the Airedales had ceased suddenly. Cherry was
straining at her leash to go.
"They have winged the two dogs," exclaimed Garrick.


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