Percy F. Westerman

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The book, Captured at Tripoli: A Tale of Adventure, has been considered important throughout the human history, and so that this work is never forgotten we have made efforts in its preservation by republishing this book in a modern format for present and future generations. This whole book has been reformatted, retyped and designed. These books are not made of scanned copies of their original work and hence the text is clear and readable.

Notice: This Book is published by Historical Books Limited (www.publicdomain.org.uk) as a Public Domain Book, if you have any inquiries, requests or need any help you can just send an email to [email protected] This book is found as a public domain and free book based on various online catalogs, if you think there are any problems regard copyright issues please contact us immediately via [email protected]

Excerpt: ...steed and, bending over the animal's neck, tore down the road. "Drop him: if he gets away we are as good as done for " shouted the Belgian corporal. Shot after shot whistled after the fugitive. Once he was seen to give a spasmodic movement and then again to drop over the horse's neck. Still the terrified animal tore onwards, and at length was out of sight. "Quel dommage " ejaculated the corporal. "The rascal has got away." "He'll drop. I'll swear that he was badly hit," said Etienne, the artilleryman. "We are not to know that," grumbled the corporal; "at least, not at present. Quick, there We must remove all traces of the affair, and trust to luck that the fellow will be able to tell no tales." Resting their rifles against the wall, Kenneth and his Belgian comrades ran into the road. They found Rollo little the worse for his experiences, beyond a bruised ankle caused by a kick from the struggling horse. "Congratulations after. Work first," exclaimed the corporal. "Together, comrades " The corpses of the Uhlans and their horses were dragged across the highway and thrown into the broad ditch, where in the now gathering twilight they would escape observation, while dust was thrown upon the traces of the encounter. "Now to the cellar " exclaimed the corporal. "Nevertheless, I will remain without for a time. I am not at all satisfied. The escape of that wounded Uhlan troubles me, so I will keep watch from without." "He received his quietus, never fear," declared Gaston. "He will tell no tales." "If your opinion is not more true than your aim

Percy Francis Westerman (1876 - 22 February 1959) was a prolific author of children's literature, many of his books adventures with military and naval themes. He was born in Portsmouth, England in 1876, and educated at Portsmouth Grammar School, before taking up a clerical appointment at Portsmouth Dockyard at the age of twenty. He married Florence Wager, of Portsmouth, in 1900. Always keen sailors, they spent part of their honeymoon sailing in the Solent. Their son, John F. C. Westerman, born in 1901, also wrote adventure books for boys. (wikipedia.org)

This collection of literature attempts to compile many of the classic, timeless works that have stood the test of time and offer them at a reduced, affordable price, in an attractive volume so that everyone can enjoy them.

This collection of literature attempts to compile many of the classic works that have stood the test of time and offer them at a reduced, affordable price, in an attractive volume so that everyone can enjoy them.

Excerpt: ...you stow 'em in." The Acting Chief hurried off, pausing outside the wireless-room to give Mostyn the last known position of the ship, which information was a necessary adjunct to the SOS call. Peter had not been idle. The moment the seriousness of the situation became apparent he was back at his post in the wireless-cabin. The shutting off of steam had automatically stopped the dynamo. In any case, the explosion had severed the "leads." The main set was out of action. Mostyn had to fall back upon the emergency gear. For quite ten minutes he contrived to call up, but no reassuring reply came through in reply to the urgent appeal for aid. There were ships within range of the emergency set, that Peter knew. He had spoken them earlier in the evening. "Either atmospherics or else they've another Partridge and Plover on board," he thought grimly. "Wonder where my birds are?" The two Watchers ought to have been on the bridge by this time. In case of distress it was their duty to "fall in" outside the wireless-cabin and await instructions. Neither had done so. The floor of the cabin had quite an acute list by this time. It was only by propping his legs against the lee bulkhead that Mostyn could keep seated. He realized perfectly well that the ship was sinking rapidly, but it is part of an unwritten code of honour that a wireless officer "stands by" until he is ordered away by his skipper or swept from his post by the sea itself. Even as he waited, still sending out the unacknowledged SOS, he thought of Olive Baird, wondering how she was faring in the horrors of the night. If he only knew

Sea Scouts Abroad by Percy F. Westerman is a thrilling tale about the sea, written for young men but thoroughly exciting for all.

This collection of literature attempts to compile many of the classic works that have stood the test of time and offer them at a reduced, affordable price, in an attractive volume so that everyone can enjoy them.

Excerpt: ...morning, when, more by good luck than by good management, the two British officers stumbled upon the clearing on which stood the galvanized iron house that they had noticed when the Myra lay at anchor in the lagoon. Although no light was visible, there were men within, for the subs could hear the rasping of a file and the sharp whirr of a hack-saw. "Steady " whispered Denbigh. "Bear away a little. Remember we're close to the native village. Ten to one there'll be a crowd of dogs about, and our clothes, in spite of ill-usage, are fairly conspicuous against the dark background." Twice they halted before they crossed a foot-track through the mangrove forest. At the second path, they had to wait until a party of German bluejackets had passed. The men were armed, and were accompanied by a score of blacks, who had been impressed to drag a small field-gun up the hill. Unsuspecting the Germans went on their way, and the subs, after a safe interval had elapsed, continued their way to the shore. Suddenly O'Hara gripped his companion's arm and pointed. Fifty feet below them, and at a distance of two hundred yards, was the native village. The huts were wrapped in silence. Only the women and children remained, for the men had been compelled to throw up earthworks to defend the lagoon from the anticipated attack. Outside the village stood two German soldiers armed with rifles and fixed bayonets, their duty being to prevent any of the inhabitants from leaving their huts during the night. "It's not healthy that way," he whispered. "More to the left, old man. I can hear the surf." Ten minutes more found them at the edge of the forest, and on the brink of the two cliffs, immediately opposite which the Pelikan had brought up and had fought her brief and unsatisfactory action with the British gunboat. Bathed in the slanting rays of the moon, which was now on the wane, were the placid waters of the lagoon. Nothing could, it seemed, escape being detected up on that...

Two Bells of the First Dog Watch somewhere in the North Sea. To be a little more definite it was bordering that part of the North Sea that merges into the narrow Straits of Dover and almost within range of the German shore batteries of Zeebrugge.

Notice: This Book is published by Historical Books Limited (www.publicdomain.org.uk) as a Public Domain Book, if you have any inquiries, requests or need any help you can just send an email to [email protected] This book is found as a public domain and free book based on various online catalogs, if you think there are any problems regard copyright issues please contact us immediately via [email protected]

Percy Westerman was a 20th century British writer best known for kids books, most of which are adventure stories involving naval or military themes.

Excerpt: ... as if with ague, resembled the claws of a bird, formed the outward appearance of the barber and chirurgeon of Legue; and Raymond could not repress a shudder as he gazed upon this caricature of a human being. "Ye are for Hennebon?" he asked in a quavering tone, rolling his lustreless eyes from one to the other. "Ay," replied Redward, "but how, by Saint Gregoire of Brittany, didst thou know?" "The shipman, my foster-brother, hath told me. But the money, the money?" he added, opening his withered hand. "A curse on the shipman," growled Redward to himself, "his tongue will be our undoing. Here, take this," he added, counting out a sum of money equivalent to the five sols demanded. "Canst furnish us with a horse apiece?" Ignoring the question, the barber counted the pieces, putting each coin between his toothless gums, as if doubtful of their quality. "Didst hear me