"This morning," the medical man nodded. "Then you're all ship shape, too? But, listen, my lad, do you two still insist upon seeing General Caldwell, Chief of British Staff?"

Asking the question was like turning a magic key in Freddy. The English youth became very excited at once, and breathlessly explained everything in more detail than had Dave.

"Yes sir," he finished up. "We have some valuable information, I'm sure. If you could loan us a car, sir, and tell us where we can find the General, we'll go at once."

"You two will go nowhere just now!" the officer said sternly. "Bless my soul, after what you've been through? Certainly not! However, there may be something to all this. I'll get the General on the wire and tell him about you two. His headquarters are not far away. He'll send one of his Staff, or perhaps come himself. This whole thing is almost fantastic!

You're sure you're not trying to pull my leg, fool me?"

"Word of honor, sir," Freddy said solemnly.

The medical officer scowled and hesitated a moment. Then he shrugged and hurried out of the ward.

Dave looked at Freddy and grinned happily.

"Boy, am I glad to see you!" he exclaimed. "According to the Doc we should be dead, by rights, or something. Instead, we just got our nerve centers knocked haywire. Say, do you know how long we've been here? Did he tell you when you woke up last time?"

"I guess he didn't have the chance," the English youth said with a wry grin. "I started yelling for them to take us to the General, and they thought I was completely off my topper. Stuck a needle in me and I popped off like a kitten. We've been here last night or since this morning, haven't we? And where the d.i.c.kens are we, anyway?"

"Hold your hat, Freddy, here it comes," Dave said with a chuckle. "We've been here eight days, he told me."

Freddy's jaw dropped and his eyes bugged out so far you could have knocked them off like marbles on sticks. Then he flushed and laughed scornfully.

"Come off it, Dave!" he protested. "Don't give me any of that kind of tosh. My word! Eight days, my hat!"

"No kidding, that's what he said," Dave insisted. And then he started to give Freddy the medical officer's description of what had happened to them, and their unknown, to them, actions during the eight day period.

He had almost finished when the medical captain came hurrying back into the ward. At his heels were two male orderlies in hospital white. Dave broke off what he was saying and stared questioningly. The medical officer looked very much excited, and also very much impressed.

"Take them to my receiving office," he said to the orderlies and stepped to the side.

Neither Dave nor Freddy had the chance to ask the questions that hovered on their lips. The orderlies took hold of their beds and started wheeling them down the aisle to the double doors at the end. They pa.s.sed through another ward and then were wheeled into a fair sized room that was fitted up more as an office than a hospital room.

"That's fine," the captain said. "Return to your wards now."

The orderlies retreated and the captain looked at Dave and Freddy in surprise and admiration.

"Well, bless me!" he exclaimed. "I certainly didn't know I had two young heroes under my charge. I had thought you were just two lads caught up in the rush of things. General Caldwell is rushing over here, now, by car. He has heard about you two."

"About us?" Dave gasped. "But, heck, how could he have heard about us?"

"Yes!" Freddy exclaimed in a tone of awed wonder. "How could he have heard of us?"

"Through the Belgian High Command, I believe," the captain said. "It seems that Belgian infantry lieutenant reported your little flying incident to his commander. Also what you had told him. It was pa.s.sed on up until it reached General Boulard. General Boulard, it seems, contacted General Caldwell to see if you lads had gotten through to him.

The lieutenant, of course, did not know what had happened to you after you drove off in the scouting car with the Sergeant. But, I can tell you, General Caldwell is most anxious to meet you. By jove, he almost broke my ear drums with his shouting. Yes, I fancy that you two chaps are rather famous, now, you know?"

"Rot, sir," Freddy said with true British modesty. "I fancy any one could have done it. And a much better job of it, too. Is it true, sir, that we've been here eight days?"

"And nights, as well," the medical officer nodded. "But don't look alarmed, my lad. That sort of thing is not unusual. And you're both safely out of it, now. A day or two of rest, and all the food you can eat, and you'll be like new again."

"I'm okay, right now," Dave said stoutly. "But there's something you didn't explain, sir, How did we get here? Who found us, and what?"

"It's a bit sketchy," the medical officer said with a frown. "As far as I could learn a Belgian ambulance driver came across you and saw that you both weren't dead, and put you in his bus. His own hospital was being evacuated because of sh.e.l.l fire, and so he continued on westward.

He reached a receiving station of ours and dumped his load there. You two, and three Belgian gunners. Anyway, from that point you were brought here to me. And here you are. It was something like that, anyway.

Doubtless you'll never know the real facts. But, I certainly shouldn't worry about that, if I were you. Simply bless your lucky stars, and let it go at that."

"Jeepers!" Dave breathed softly. "Lucky stars? I must have a million of them, I guess. You, too, Freddy. Right?"

"Quite!" The English youth nodded. "Dashed if it isn't like some fairy tale one of those writer chaps would think up."

"And how!" Dave grunted and shook his head. "My gosh! A Stuka bomb drops on me and I wake up hours later and miles away. Then a land mine, or something, blows up in my face, and I wake up _eight days_ later, and gosh knows _how_ far away. I sure do get around."

"Well, better not make a habit of it, my lad," the medical officer chuckled. "The third time, you know?"

"Hey, those eight days!" Dave suddenly exclaimed. "What's been happening? Who's winning? Are the Allies beating up the Germans? Gee, I sure hope so!"

The smile fled from the medical officer's face and he became very grave.

He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it abruptly. At that moment the office door swung open and a group of five tired eyed British officers entered the room. A big man, with coal black hair and steel grey eyes, led the party. Even without looking at his uniform with its rows of decoration ribbons, and high rank insignia, Dave knew at once that the man was General Caldwell, chief of British Staff. The captain swung around and clicked his heels.

"Ah, there you are, sir," he greeted the General. "And here, sir, are your two young lads. This is the American chap, Dave Dawson. And this is one of our own lads. Freddy Farmer. Boys, General Caldwell, chief of British Staff. You'd like me to retire, sir?"

"No, no, of course not, Captain," General Caldwell said in a brisk tone.

Then turning his steel grey eyes on the boys he smiled faintly. "So, you are the two, eh?" he said. "I've heard quite a bit about you. Now, who wants to talk first? I want to hear everything."

"You tell him about it, Freddy," Dave said promptly. "You remembered more things on that map than I did, anyway."

Freddy flushed and looked embarra.s.sed. The General smiled and perched himself on a corner of the bed, while his officers gathered around.

"All right, Freddy," he said. "Freddy Farmer, isn't it? Oh yes, of course. All right, Freddy, let's have it, eh?"

"Yes sir," the English youth said, and began talking in a low but clear voice.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

_Belgium Gives Up!_

As Freddy recounted their experiences one by one Dave checked them in his own mind. Presently, though, he only half listened to his pal. He became fascinated looking at the British Chief of Staff. Many times he had seen General Caldwell's picture in the papers back home. And he had read a lot of the General's reputation as a fighter and leader of men.

It thrilled him through and through to see the great man sitting just a few feet from him. It was another great experience he would remember always.

The one thing that pleased Dave most about the famous general was that he looked exactly like what Dave had always believed a general should look like. Tall, strong looking, and a face that could be stern and hard as rock. Right now the General could indeed be made entirely of solid rock. He didn't so much as blink an eye as Freddy talked. Not a muscle in his face moved. And his steel grey eyes instead of looking into Freddy's, looked at Freddy's lips as though to draw the words out. He remained that way right up until Freddy had spoken his last word. Then General Caldwell took his eyes off Freddy's lips and stared unblinkingly at the opposite wall.

"Well done, lads," he suddenly said, speaking in a soft voice that seemed strange coming from his stern looking face. "I'll certainly see that others hear of this, you can mark my words. And you, America! Dave Dawson, can you add anything to the story?"

Dave furrowed his brows in thought for a moment, then shook his head.

"No, guess not, General," he said. "Except that Freddy didn't tell you half of the things he did to get us out of jams. He...."