The French had made a terrific charge at this point, and many were lying dead, where the van slowed down, so as to give the surgeon and helpers an opportunity to pick out the wounded cases.

Wherever there was a movement in a p.r.o.ne figure the men stopped and made an examination. In some cases the wounds were hurriedly dressed, and the victim's position rendered comfortable. In other cases the surgeon motioned to the helpers, who quickly brought the stretchers, and carried the wounded into the van.

On this single trip they attended, or gave first aid to thirty, but only the most severely injured were taken into the van, which now turned and quickly speeded along the narrow road to the field hospital. Reaching this station the men were carefully taken out, their wounds re-examined, and carried into a temporary shelter for a second operation or treatment.

A huge van then arrived from the southwest. Carefully and tenderly eight men were placed on the cots within, the boys being delegated to a.s.sist.

When the order was given to leave, the boys remained in the van, as it started out on its journey, but they didn't have the least idea where it was bound, although you may be sure they were curious to know.

After every one had settled down,--that is, if such a thing as quiet and comfort were possible in a van load of wounded men, Ralph turned to the surgeon, and said. "Where are we going?"

"To Paris, if we can get through," was the reply.

The van had a wonderful set of springs, so that, although it was necessary hour after hour to go through fields, instead of traveling along the road, there was little discomfort to the wounded men.

"Why are the men being taken to Paris?" asked Alfred.

"So as to relieve the emergency station behind the battle front,"

explained the surgeon. "That is one thing; the other is, that the great German forces are driving in our comparatively small army, until the Paris forts are reached. There they will be stopped, and we must take our wounded with us, and out of the reach of the enemy."

At Dammartin they saw the first Red Cross railway van,--an entire train load, filled with wounded from the emergency stations, and here also they were joined by fifteen vans taking the wounded on to the city. It was thus a fortunate stroke for the boys that they undertook to help the field hospital workers, for it directly a.s.sisted them in their effort to reach the end of their journey.

Traveling was slow, and many detours were necessary, so it was not until the fourth day of September that they caught sight of the walls of Paris, and they soon had the pleasure of driving over the beautiful smooth streets again. They went directly to the center of the city, pa.s.sed down the rue de l'Opera, through the Place de la Concorde, and over the bridge to a hospital near the Place des Invalides.

Their charges in the van were soon provided for, and carried into comfortable berths. As they were leaving the ward, they heard a weak voice calling: "Ralph; Alfred."

They were startled, and turned around with wondering glances. A nurse motioned to them, and pointed toward a figure with bandaged head and arms. They approached.

"You don't know me, I suppose?" said the voice.

"No,--no," said Ralph.

"I believe it's Tom," said Alfred.

"Right," said the voice.

The boys knelt down at his side at once. "How did it happen?" asked Alfred.

"Well, they got me first; but I brought down two of them before I was. .h.i.t," Tom told them.

"What became of the machine?" was Alfred's next question.

"I don't remember anything about it," was the reply, "but they told me it made fine kindling wood."

"Too bad!" consoled Alfred. "I liked that little Morane; and to think it's all broken up."

"How did you get here?" asked Tom.

"Why, we came down with the Red Cross people," explained Ralph.

"You seem to get into all sorts of trouble, all along the line," said Tom with an attempt to laugh.

"But are you badly hurt?" inquired Alfred anxiously.

"The doctors say that there are only a few bones broken, several joints wrenched out of shape, and some of the bark peeled off, but I ought to be out in a few weeks," said Tom.

"Tell us what we ought to do now?" Alfred asked him.

"What do you mean?"

"Why, I want to know whether they will expect us to keep on in the Red Cross service?"

"You volunteered, didn't you?" replied Tom. "You helped them out of your free will, and you can leave whenever you want to, if that's what you are getting at."

"I wouldn't mind volunteering in the aviation corps," said Ralph. "I would just like----"

"So they got you this time, eh?" said a voice.

The boys turned, and saw a handsome man with the uniform of a lieutenant in the aviation service, who approached, and leaned over Tom. Tom replied with a smile, and raising his injured hand, pointed to the boys.

"Lieutenant," he said, "I want you to get acquainted with two of my American friends, who have been in the thick of it right from the start.

Now you'll be conferring a special favor if you can take them in to help you out. Oh, they're bricks," continued Tom, as he saw a shade of discouragement in the lieutenant's features, "they are made of the right stuff."

"We leave for Verdun in the morning," said the lieutenant, "but I will see what can be done in the meantime."

As they left the hospital the first thought was to go to the Continental Hotel to try to get a trace of Alfred's father. Arriving there a letter was handed them, together with two telegrams from Berne, Switzerland, one of the messages having been received that very day. The missives informed him that his father had not been able to leave German territory until the twenty-eighth of August, and as he had received word that the Germans were approaching Paris he thought it unwise to make the trip to that point, but would await word from them before deciding what to do.

"How far is it from Berne to Verdun?" Alfred asked the clerk.

"About three hundred kilometers," was the reply.

"Let's see; that's about two hundred miles," said Alfred. "And it's a hundred and fifty miles to Verdun.

"Then we'll go to Verdun," said Ralph. "But how?"

The subject was debated for an hour, when it was decided to return to the hospital. They had forgotten to learn the lieutenant's name, although probably Tom knew how to reach him, they reasoned.

Arriving at the hospital they learned that Tom was asleep, and that no one would be permitted to see him, so they wandered around without the slightest idea what course to pursue. They even discussed the feasibility of walking to Verdun, but that idea was soon abandoned.

"I wonder where the aviation grounds are?" remarked Ralph.

They soon learned that several corps were located at the great race course in the Bois de Boulogne, and they were soon on the underground railway speeding to the nearest station in that vicinity. Arriving at the grounds they approached the entrance, and their hearts sank as they saw a great crowd gathered, and one after the other turned away.

"Chances of getting in seem to be pretty slim," said Alfred.

"Well, we might try it, anyhow," said Ralph, as he pushed forward.

They marched up to the gate, and pa.s.sed through without the least objection on the part of the guards. This was the greatest surprise to both. They had forgotten that the uniforms they wore gave them admittance without question. Evidently they were taken for army messengers.