One of the policemen blew his whistle…

TOOT-TOOT!

…while the other shouted, “STOP THAT BOY!”

Eric darted down the road as the policemen gave chase. Londoners had emerged from the underground or their bomb shelters. They were gathered in groups inspecting the terrible damage from the night’s bombing.

Rubble was being searched for survivors.

People were calling out the names of loved ones.

“GRANDAD? GRANDAD?”

Others fell to their knees and wept to see everything they’d worked for all their lives destroyed.

But most looked around as they heard the police whistle and the cry of, “STOP THAT BOY!”

Why did he need to be stopped?

Times were hard, and it had been known for some to steal from the bombed-out homes, or even the bodies of the dead. Was the boy a thief?

Soon, some folks were joining in the chase.

“STOP THAT BOY!” came more and more cries.

Eric was frightened. All he could think to do was run faster and faster and dodge out of the way of the sea of arms reaching out to grab him.

More police whistles sounded.

TOOT-TOOT!!

Suddenly, it seemed as if the whole of London were after him.

Still Eric kept running.

He was exhausted from being up all night, but somehow his little legs kept powering him along.

Now he was running across roads, dodging out of the way of buses and taxis.

Ahead of him was London Bridge, which stretched out across the River Thames. Behind him, the policemen and the mob were gaining on him. Up ahead, Eric could see a trio of policemen on bicycles pedalling in his direction. The policemen leaped off their bicycles…

CLATTER!

…and blocked the boy’s path.

Now he was trapped. Eric was in BIG TROUBLE for running away from the policemen. He had to flee. But there was nowhere to go.

The boy held on to the balustrade of the bridge and looked out across the Thames.

Chugging under the bridge was a barge loaded with hundreds of cardboard boxes.

The angry grown-ups were getting closer and closer.

Eric climbed on to the top of the railings.

The mob stopped, forming a semicircle round him.

“DON’T DO ANYTHING STUPID, SON!” shouted the first policeman.

Eric only had seconds to make his decision. Any moment now, the boat would have passed.

Could he?

Eric closed his eyes. Once again, he pictured how Gertrude leaped from one place to another. So, with all his strength, Eric pushed off with his feet.

WHOOSH!

“NOOO!” someone shouted.

It was too late.

Eric was sailing through mid-air…