Then he lay down, his eyes glued to a sort of natural peephole
that gave him a view of the road.
"It's like a grandstand seat!" he said. "But I hope no one wants to see
my ticket because I'm afraid the usher would make me change my seat!"
But then Fred had to give his whole attention to what was going on in
the road. The Germans came running up, a young officer in the lead.
There were a half dozen of them. At first, as they looked about near the
burning car, they saw no one. But then one of the soldiers saw Boris and
raised a shout. The officer went over, leaned down and then started back
with a cry of surprise.
"That is no German officer!" he exclaimed. He bent over again and Fred
winced as he saw him shaking Boris by the shoulder. He wondered if Boris
was shamming, or if he had really fainted. Then it was plain that there
was no pretence. The officer, gently enough, raised Boris's head, and
taking a flask from his pocket, forced a little of the spirits it
contained into Boris's mouth. Fred saw his cousin stiffen; he was coming
to his senses. Then the officer let him down, but made a sort of pillow
for him with a cushion that had been thrown out of the automobile when
it was overturned.
Pages:
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168