Grand Forks herald. [volume] (Grand Forks, N.D.) 1916-1955, 1918-02-25
Going to the
Dogs, and the Russians
Under German Drilmas-
tiers are About to March
Against Francs, Which
Has Only One Cartridge
Left-If You Believe all
You Hear'in the Cafes.
BY GEORGE RANDOLPH CHESTER
And Lillian Chester. ~

BY GEORGE RANDOLPH CHESTER
And Lillian Chester.
Copyright, 1918, by the Newspaper
Enterprise A~ssociation.)
Paris, Feb. 25.-Lights and laugh
ter in the busy little Cafe de Bruille:
but not for them!
The even Americans at the corner
table, from freckled r~ed-headed big
Jones to little Dingbat with the six
hair mustache, are stepped and sat
urated in gloom as they wait for their
soup; for they have been in Paris. the
center now of all big things, for two
whole days. ~.
The only comfort they have is In
each other; they are firm friends
having met on the boat coming over
and they a confide in, n trust in
each other.
"say!!" They are electrified by the
sudden appearance of another friend.
though not quite a firm one. for
Brown crossed on the previous boat.
But they met him in London, and he
came all the way from there to Paris
with them, he and his crowd, so he's
all right. b
Brown ordinarily is a hard-cheeked
fellow with squinty eyes. but there is
no trace Of a squint in him now. The
eyes are bullying with excitement, as
III "a a DooiAoo o"iU W. al
bat by the coat lapels, leans as far to
the center of the table as possible, and
whispers piercingly:
1--WE fellows had better get right
out of Paris!
There is one instantaneous thought
in the minds of all. and lanky Smith.
at the inner end of the table voices it
hoarsely:
"What have YOU heard?
"Everything's gone to the dogs!"
Brown gulps, and tightens his grip on
the Goa lapels. THE French army
has only cartridge left! All they're
waiting for now is to decide who gets
to shoot it; then they're going to
%evacuate Paris, and let the Germans
in; and goodnight!"
Brrrrrr! A chill like an ague de-
sends on the assemblage. but little
Dingbat, who is hopeful, not because
he is an optimist but because he hates
to die. moistens his lips. and asks:
How do you know"
I'm not at liberty to state" an
swers Brown, looking around him
furtively and lowering his voice still
more. But may tell you this much;
the information came originally from
a high authority" ~
That settles it. Who is there to dis
pute a high authority? Something like
a groan is in the deep signs Of the
eight firm friends. and the silence is
broken by the harsh. hoarse voice of
Doofab. saying Lego o. my coat"
For Dooflab. a jolly disposed fellow.
from his round face, and full of many
a merry quip and jest, is now pasty,
and can't breathe,
Its those Judas Russians!" comes
a hollow voice from near the end of
the table. White, with all the gold
teeth, and he has lines each side of
his nose which. were not there when
he dropped off the train in Paris, and
Russia! Terrible, menacine Rus
turn anxiously toward white, and
Brown, releasing his hold. on the
wrinkled 'lapels.., pushes in on the
plush bench beside little Dingbat.
What more a White have heard
about the Bolsheviki since noon?
White They've been drilling for
months under German officers! They
have assassinated all the allied rep
resentatives in. Moscow and Petro-
grad! They started yesterday on a
march to Verdun. a million strong!
They're numbering everyone who re-
fuses to take up arms and join them,
BY the time they reach the German
frontier there'n be four million of
The waiter brings the soup to a
table which is cold and clammy. and
tensely silent The eight sit like
statues. They do not utter a syllable
in the presence of this little man with
the down-drooping black mustaches.
He may be a spy! and their irforn,a-
ton is secret. confidential, valuable.
= and goodnight" finishes White,
as h waiter moves away.
And you have this from a oood
authority" pipes up little Dingbat.