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The Boy Scout Aviators by George Durston
page 31 of 160 (19%)
what had come about so suddenly. And he was thankful, too, all
at once, that in America the fear and peril of War were so
remote. It was glorious, it was thrilling, but it was terrible,
too. He wondered how many of the scouts he knew, and how many
of those in school would lose their fathers or their brothers in
this war that was beginning. Truly, there is no argument for peace
that can compare with war itself! Yet how slowly we learn!

Grenfel had gone, and the troop was now in charge of a new
scoutmaster, Francis Wharton. Mr. Wharton was a somewhat older
man. At first sight he didn't look at all like the man to lead a
group of scouts, but that, as it turned out, was due to physical
infirmities. One foot had been amputated at the time of the Boer
War, in which he had served with Grenfel. As a result he was
incapacitated from active service, although, as the scouts soon
learned, he had begged to be allowed to go in spite of it. He
appeared at the scout headquarters, the pavilion of a small local
cricket club, on Wednesday morning.

"I don't know much about this -- more shame to me," he said,
cheerfully, standing up to address the boys. "But I think we can
make a go of it -- think we'll be able to do something for the
Empire, boys. My old friend John Grenfel told me a little;
he said you'd pull me through. These are war times and you'll
have to do for me what many a company in the army does for a young
officer."

They gave him a hearty cheer that was a promise in itself.

"I can tell you I felt pretty bad when I found they wouldn't let
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