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Connor, Ralph, Pseudonym, 1860-1937

"The Sky Pilot in No Man's Land"


"I say, sir," said the voice, "I wouldn't just stay there. They
generally send over four of 'em. That's only the third. I find this
ditch very convenient, though somewhat mucky."
Barry looked at him in astonishment. He was white and shaken, covered
with mud, but trying to get his cigarette case open.
"I'd get off, sir, if I were you," he said, "until the next one comes.
Quick, sir, I hear it now."
Barry needed no second invitation. He flung himself headlong into the
ditch beside the young fellow, but the shell dropped into the field
beyond.
"That's as near as I like 'em," said the young officer, scraping the
mud off his clothes. "My poor, old gee-gee got it though." He drew his
revolver and shot the wounded animal. "It's hard on the horses. You see,
they can't dodge," he added.
"I say, my boy," said Barry, for the lieutenant was only a boy, "that
was a near thing for you. What are you going to do now?"
"Oh, just carry on," said the boy. "The relief will be along in a few
hours.


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