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Altsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander), 1862-1919

"The Hosts of the Air"

It's
quite certain that he will carry them into Austria, perhaps to Salzburg
or some place near there."
It was precious information, given casually by a chance acquaintance,
and John believed that it was true. It was in the region of Salzburg
that his great Odyssey had begun, and now it seemed that chance, after
many a curve through the smoke of battle, was taking him back there.
"I'm off duty, Castel, and I'll be glad to go with you," he heard
Scheller saying. "Beer is always welcome and I think you're a good
fellow. It's too bad the blood of your forefathers was French, but it's
had a German stiffening under our rule."
"The German spirit is strong and the Kaiser's armies are mighty," said
John sincerely. "Now we'll hurry to the inn and have our beer."
Scheller was not loath, and before the great fire John toasted his
health in a huge foaming mug, and Scheller toasted back again. Then the
sergeant gave him a grip of his mighty hand and told him good-by.
"I like you, Castel, lad," he said, "and whatever you want I hope you'll
get it."
John, imaginative at all times, but with his nerves keyed to the highest
pitch now, took it as an omen. The kindly Scheller little dreamed what
he sought, but the good wishes of a sergeant might have as much effect
as those of a general or a prince with the Supreme Power.


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