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England, George Allan, 1877-1936

"The Flying Legion"


A good blow with a hammer would surely break it along the original
lines of fracture--and this is well worth knowing and remembering".
"Well, so far so good," he concluded. "The Air Control Board hasn't
got us, yet. Neither have the Mohammedans. True, we've lost a number
of men, but that was to have been expected. That's inevitable, and we
still have enough. I hardly see that we have so very much to complain
of, so far."
He turned, pulled a blanket from his berth and carefully spread it
over the loot on the table. Then he pushed the button communicating
with the cabin wherein Rrisa was still quivering as a result of having
heard the fusillades and the terrific tumult--unseen though they had
been to him--at Mecca.
In a couple of minutes the faithful orderly appeared, salaamed, and
stood waiting with a drawn, troubled face.
"_Allah m'a!_" the Master greeted him, in Allah's name inquiring for
his good health. "I have something important to ask thee. Come in.
Come in, and close the door."
He spoke in Arabic. The orderly, in the same tongue, made answer as he
obeyed:
"The Master hath but to talk, and it is answered, if my knowledge can
suffice.


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