Page:Randall Parrish - The Red Mist.djvu/388

 368 "Stand to it, lads!" cried Harwood from the dark vestibule. "The Yanks are coming!"

I swung her light form across the platform to where Nichols crouched.

"Quick now, both of you! Careful; don't fall, Noreen! Go on, man; I'll close the trap—and God help you if you don't remember!"