World War, 1914-1918 -- Aerial operations -- Juvenile fiction
Produced by Al Haines.
[Illustration: Cover]
[Illustration: THROUGH THE SKYLIGHT. _See page_ 22.]
BURTON OF THE
FLYING CORPS
BY
HERBERT STRANG
_ILLUSTRATED BY C. E. BROCK_
LONDON
HENRY FROWDE
HODDER AND STOUGHTON
_First printed in 1916._
PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BY R. CLAY AND SONS, LTD.,
BRUNSWICK STREET, STAMFORD STREET, S.E., AND BUNGAY, SUFFOLK.
CONTENTS
I DÉFENSE DE FUMER
Showing how Burton made a trip to Ostend in pursuit of a spy
II THE DEATH’S HEAD HUSSAR
Relating Burton’s adventure in a French chateau
III BORROWED PLUMES
Showing how Burton caught a German in Bulgaria
IV THE WATCH-TOWER
Showing what followed an accident in Macedonia
V THE MISSING PLATOON
Relating an incident of trench warfare in Flanders
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
COLOUR PLATES
Through the Skylight . . . _Frontispiece_ (_see page_ 22)
An Interruption
Nonplussed
Hands up!
DRAWINGS IN LINE
"Oh, Mr. Burton, sir"
Signals of Distress
"I give him in charge"
Congratulations
"You have had an accident"
The German Way
The Marquis is hit
The Door fell in with a Crash
An Aerial Somersault
"He looks a terrible fellow"
A Discomfited Spy
"Dismount, sir"
Milosh waits
"A strange find, upon my word"
A Perilous Moment
The British Way
The Captain is annoyed
Headings on pages 9, 63, 129, 163, 246
[Illustration: Chapter I Heading]
DÉFENSE DE FUMER
I
About one o’clock one Saturday afternoon in summer, a
hydro-aeroplane--or, as its owner preferred to call it, a
flying-boat--dropped lightly on to the surface of one of the many creeks
that intersect the marshes bordering on the river Swale. The pilot, a
youth of perhaps twenty years, having moored his vessel to a stake in
the bank, leapt ashore with a light suit-case, and walked rapidly along
a cinder path towards the low wooden shed, painted black, that broke the
level a few hundred yards away.
It was a lonely spot--the very image of dreariness. All around extended
the "glooming flats"; between the shed and Luddenham Church, a mile or
so distant, nothing varied the grey monotony except an occasional tree,
and a small red-brick, red-tiled cottage, which, with its flower-filled
windows, seemed oddly out of place amid its surroundings--an oasis in a
desert.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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