TWO DARING YOUNG PATRIOTS

Or, Outwitting the Huns

BY W. P. SHERVILL

Author of "Edgar the Ready"

Illustrated by Arch. Webb

BLACKIE AND SON LIMITED
LONDON GLASGOW AND BOMBAY

LIKE A WHIRLWIND THEY FLUNG THEMSELVES UPON THE HATED FOE

Contents

CHAPTER I. Trouble in the Crew
CHAPTER II. The Races
CHAPTER III. Max Durend at Home
CHAPTER IV. The Cataclysm
CHAPTER V. The Fall of Liége
CHAPTER VI. A New Standpoint
CHAPTER VII. A Few Words with M. Schenk
CHAPTER VIII. Treachery!
CHAPTER IX. The Opening of the Struggle
CHAPTER X. Getting Ready for Bigger Things
CHAPTER XI. The Attack on the Power-house
CHAPTER XII. The Attack on the Munition-shops and its Sequel
CHAPTER XIII. The German Counter-stroke
CHAPTER XIV. Schenk at Work Again
CHAPTER XV. The Dash
CHAPTER XVI. In the Ardennes
CHAPTER XVII. Cutting the Line
CHAPTER XVIII. Reprisals
CHAPTER XIX. A Further Blow
CHAPTER XX. Across the Frontier
CHAPTER XXI. The Great Coup

Illustrations

Like a whirlwind they flung themselves upon the hated foe

Both lads began to hurl the great stones upon the German soldiery

A cloth was clapped over the soldier's nose and mouth

"It's all right; we're friends"

The two watchers gave a loud full-throated British cheer

TWO DARING YOUNG PATRIOTS

Or, Outwitting the Huns

CHAPTER I

Trouble in the Crew

"Here come Benson's!"

The speaker leaned over the edge of the tow-path and watched an eight-oared boat swing swiftly round a bend in the river a hundred yards away and come racing up to the landing-stage.

"Eee—sy all—l!" came in a sing-song from the coxswain, perched, for better sight, half upon the rear canvas, and eight oars instantly feathered the water as their boat slanted swiftly in towards the shore.

"Hold her, Seven."

With almost provoking sloth, after the smartly executed movements already described, Number Seven dug his oar deeply into the water, making up somewhat for his tardiness by the fierceness of the movement. The nose of the boat turned outwards almost with a jerk, and the craft slid in close to and parallel with the landing-stage.

"Seven's got the sulks again, Jones," commented the watcher on shore, a middle schoolboy named Walters, as he eyed the proceedings critically. "His time's bad. It's just as well they get to work to-morrow."

"Yes," assented his companion. "But, you know, it beats me why they didn't put Montgomery at stroke instead of seven. He's a far better oar than Durend—the best in the school—and it would have upset nobody."

"His style may be better," admitted Walters a little reluctantly, "but he hasn't got that tremendous shove off the stretcher that makes the other so useful a man to follow. Besides, he has too much temper to be able to