[Illustration: "HALT!" WAS THE SUDDEN COMMAND. ]

Ruth Fielding

At the War Front

OR

THE HUNT FOR

THE LOST SOLDIER

BY

ALICE B. EMERSON

AUTHOR OF "RUTH FIELDING OF THE RED MILL, " "RUTH FIELDING IN THESADDLE, " ETC. 

_ILLUSTRATED_

NEW YORK

CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY

PUBLISHERS

Copyright, 1918, by

CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY

RUTH FIELDING AT THE WAR FRONT

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

 I. TO GET ACQUAINTED II. AT THE CHATEAU III. A PERILOUS PROJECT IV. UNDER FIRE V. MOTHER GERVAISE VI. THE MYSTERY VII. WHERE IS TOM CAMERON? VIII. THE CHOCOLATE PEDDLER IX. COT 24--HUT H X. DEVOURING SUSPICION XI. THE FLYING MAN XII. AUNT ABELARD XIII. AN UNEXPECTED MEETING XIV. MORE SACRIFICES THAN ONE XV. BUBU XVI. THE HOLLOW TOOTH XVII. THE WORST IS TOLD XVIII. BEARING THE BURDEN XIX. ADVENTURE XX. ON THE RAW EDGE OF NO MAN'S LAND XXI. A NIGHT TO BE REMEMBERED XXII. THROUGH THE GERMAN LINES XXIII. THE GARDENER'S COT XXIV. CAPT. VON BRENNER'S SISTER XXV. BACK AGAIN

RUTH FIELDING AT THE WAR FRONT

CHAPTER I

TO GET ACQUAINTED

It was a midwinter day, yet the air was balmy. The trees werebare-limbed but with a haze clothing them in the distance that seemedalmost that of returning verdure. The grass, even in mid-winter, showed green. A bird sang lustily in the hedge. 

Up the grassy lane walked a girl in the costume of the active Red Crossworker--an intelligent looking girl with a face that, although perhapsnot perfect in form, was possessed of an expression that was alluring. 

Neither observant man nor woman would have passed her, even in a crowd, without a second glance. There was a cheerful light in her eye and ahumorous curve to her not too-full lips that promised an upliftingspirit within her even in serious mood. 

It seemed as though this day--and its apparent peace--must breedhappiness, although it was but a respite in the middle of winter. Thebalmy air, the chirrup of the bird, the far-flung reaches of the valleywhich she could see from this mounting lane, all delighted the sensesand soothed the spirit. 

Suddenly, with an unexpectedness that was shocking, there was a tremorin the air and the echo of a rumbling sound beneath the girl's feet. The crack of a distant explosion followed. Then another, and another, until the sound became a continual grumble of angry explosions, resonant and threatening. 

The girl did not stop, but the expression of her face lost itscheerfulness. The song of the bird was cut off sharply. It seemed asthough the sun itself began drawing a veil over his face. The peacefulmood of nature was shattered. 

The girl kept on her way, but she no longer stepped lightly andspringily. Those muttering guns had brought a somber cloak for herfeelings--to her very soul. 

Somewhere a motor began to hum. The sound came nearer with greatrapidity. It was a powerful engine. It was several seconds before thegirl looked up instead of along the road in search of the seat of thiswhirring sound. 

There shot into view overhead, and flying low, an aeroplane that lookedlike a huge flying insect--an enormous armored grasshopper. Only itshead was somewhat pointed and there, fixed in the front, was the uglymuzzle of a machine gun. The airplane flew so low that she could seethe details. 

There were two masked men in it, one at the wheel, the other at themachine gun. The aeroplane swooped just above her head, descendingalmost to the treetops, the roaring of it deafening the girl in the RedCross uniform. There was the red, white and blue shield of the UnitedStates painted upon the underside of the car. 

Then it was gone, mounting higher and higher, until, as she stood towatch it, it became a painted speck against the sky. That is the lureof the flying machine. The wonder of it--and the terror--attracts theeye and shakes the spirit of the beholder. 

With a sigh the girl went on up the lane, mounting the hill steadily, on the apex of which, among giant forest trees, loomed the turrets andtowers of a large chateau. 

Again the buzzing of a motor broke the near-by stillness, while thegreat guns boomed in the distance. The sudden activity on the frontmust portend some important movement, or why should so many flyingmachines be drawn toward this sector?

But in a minute she realized that this was not an aeroplane she heard. Debouching into sight from the fringing thickets came a powerful motorcar, its forefront armored. She could barely see the head andshoulders of the man behind the steering wheel. 

Down the hill plunged the car, and the girl quickly stepped to the sideof the lane and waited for it to pass. The roar of its muffler wasdeafening. In a moment she saw that the tonneau of the gray car wasfilled with uniformed men. 

They were officers in khaki, the insignia of their several gradesscarcely distinguishable against the dull color of their clothing. Howdifferent from the gay uniforms of the French Army Corps, which, untilof late, the girl of the Red Cross had been used to seeing in thislocality. 

Their faces were different, too. Gray, lean, hard-bitten faces, theireyebrows so light and sparse that it seemed their eyes were hard stoneswhich never seemed to shift their straight-ahead gaze. Yet each man inthe tonneau and the orderly beside the driver on the front seat salutedthe Red Cross girl as she stood by the laneside. 

In another half-minute the car had turned at the bottom of the hill andwas out of sight. 

She sighed again as she plodded on. Now, indeed, was the spring gonefrom her limbs and her expression was weary with a sadness that, although not personal, was heavy upon her. 

Her thought was with the aeroplane and the motor car and with thethundering guns at the battle front, not many miles away. Yet shehastened her steps up this grassy lane toward the chateau, in quite theopposite direction. 

The sudden stir of the military life of this sector portended somethingunusual. An advance of the enemy or an attempt to make a drive uponthe Allies' works. In any case, down in the little, low-lying townbehind her, there might be increased need of hospital workers. Shemust, before long, be once more at the hospital to meet the firstambulances rolling in from the field hospitals or from the dressingstations at the very front. 

She reached the summit of the ridge, over which the lane passed to thevalley on the west side of the hill. The high arch of the gateway ofthe chateau was in sight. 

Coming from that direction, walking easily, yet quickly, was the leanmilitary figure of a young man who switched the roadside weed stalkswith a light cane. He looked up quickly as the girl approached, andhis rather somber face lighted as though the sight of her gave himpleasure. 

Yet his gaze was respectful. He was handsome, keenly intelligentlooking and not typically French, although he was dressed in theuniform of a branch of the French service, wearing a major's chevrons. As the Red Cross girl came nearer, he put his heels together smartly, removed his kepi, and bowed stiffly from the waist. It was not aFrenchman's bow. 

The girl responded with a quiet bend of her head, but she passed him bywithout giving him any chance to speak. He followed her only with hiseyes--and that but for a moment; then he went on down the lane, hisstride growing momentarily longer until he passed from view. 

A cry from the direction of the broad gateway ahead next aroused theattention of the girl in the Red Cross uniform. She looked up to seeanother girl running to meet her. 

This was a short, rather plump French girl, whose eyes shone withexcitement, and who ran with hands outstretched to meet those of theRed Cross girl. The latter was some years the older. 

"Oh, Mademoiselle Ruth! Mademoiselle Ruth Fielding!" cried the Frenchgirl eagerly. "Did you meet him? Ah-h!"

Ruth Fielding laughed as she watched the mobile face of her friend. The latter's cheeks were flushed with excitement, her eyes rolled. Shewas all aquiver with the emotion that possessed her. 

"Did you see him?" she repeated, as their hands met and Ruth stooped topress her lips to the full ones of her friend. 

"Did I see whom, you funny Henriette?" asked Ruth. 

"Am I fon-nay?" demanded Henriette Dupay, in an English which sheevidently struggled to make clear. "Then am I not nice?"

"You are both funny and nice, " declared Ruth Fielding, hugging thegirl's plump body close to her own, as they walked on slowly to thechateau gate. "Tell me. Who was I supposed to see? A motor full ofofficers passed me, and an aeroplane over my head----"

"Oh, non! non!" cried Henriette. Then, in awe: "Major Marchand. "

"Oh! Is that Major Marchand?"

"But yes, Mademoiselle Ruth. Ah-h! Such a man--such a figure! He isMadame the Countess' younger son. "

"So I understand, " Ruth said. "He is safely engaged in Paris, is henot?" and her tone implied much. 

"Ye-es. So it is said. He--he must be a ve-ry important man, Mademoiselle, or his duty would not keep him there. "

"Unless the Boches succeed in raiding Paris from the air he is notlikely to get hurt at all--this Major Marchand?"

"Oh!" pouted Henriette. "You are so critical. But he is--what yousay?--so-o beautiful!"

"Not in my eyes, " said Ruth grimly. "I don't like dolly soldiers. "

"Oh, Mademoiselle Ruth!" murmured the French girl. "Do not let Madamethe Countess suspect your feelings toward her younger son. He is allshe has now, you know. "

"Indeed? Has the older son fallen in battle?"

"The young count has disappeared, " whispered Henriette, her lips closeto Ruth's ear. "We heard of it only lately. But it seems hedisappeared some months ago. Nobody knows what has become of him. "

"He, at least, was on the battle front?" asked the American girl. "Heis missing? Probably a prisoner of the Germans?"

"No-o. He was not at the front, " confessed the other girl. "He, too, was engaged in Paris, it is understood. But hush! We are at the gate. I will ring. Don't, Mademoiselle Ruth, let the dear countess suspectthat you do not highly approve of her remaining son. "

The Red Cross girl smiled rather grimly, but she gave the promise. 

CHAPTER II

AT THE CHATEAU

The two girls, arm in arm, approached the postern gate beside the wideiron grille that was never opened save for the passage of horses or amotor car. There was a little round shutter in the postern at theheight of a man's head; for aforetime the main gateway had been ofmassive oak, bolt-studded and impervious to anything less than cannonshot. The wall of masonry that surrounded the chateau was both highand thick, built four hundred years or so before for defence. 

An old-fashioned rope-pull hung beside the postern. Henriette draggedon this sharply, but the girls could not hear the tongue of the bell, for it struck far back in the so-called offices of the chateau, wherethe serving people had had their quarters before these war times hadcome upon the earth. 

Now there were but few servants remaining at the chateau. For the mostpart the elderly Countess Marchand lived alone and used but few of therooms. 

As the girls waited an answer to their summons, Henriette said, inreference to what had already passed in conversation between them:

"It hurts me, dear friend, that anybody should doubt the loyalty of ourcountess whom _we_ know to be so good. Why! there are people evenwicked enough to connect her with that--that awful Thing we know of, "and the girl dropped her voice and looked suddenly around her, asthough she feared an unseen presence. 

"As though she were a werwolf, " she added, with a shudder. 

"Pooh!" and Ruth Fielding laughed. "Nobody in their senses wouldconnect Madame la Countess with such tales, having once seen her. "

She thought now, as they waited, of her first visit to the chateau, andof the appearance of the Countess Marchand in her bare library. Whatever her sons might be--the young count who was missing, or thismajor whom she had just met in the grassy lane--Ruth Fielding wasconfident that the lady of the chateau was a loyal subject of France, and that she was trusted by the Government. 

Ruth had called here herself on that occasion with a secret agent, Monsieur Lafrane, to clear up the mystery of a trio of criminals whohad come from America to prey upon the Red Cross. These crooks hadsucceeded in robbing the Supply Department of the Red Cross, in whichRuth herself was engaged. But in the end they had fallen into thetoils of the French secret service and Ruth had aided in theiroverthrow. 

All this is told in the volume of this series immediately preceding ourpresent story, entitled: "Ruth Fielding in the Red Cross; or, Doing HerBest for Uncle Sam. " This was the thirteenth volume of the RuthFielding Series. 

Of the twelve books that have gone before that only a brief mention canbe made while Ruth and the young French girl are waiting for an answerto the bell. 

At first we meet Ruth Fielding as she approaches Cheslow and the RedMill beside the Lumano River, where Uncle Jabez, the miserly miller, awaits her coming in no pleasant frame of mind. He is her only livingrelative and he considers little Ruth Fielding a "charity child. " Sheis made to feel this by his treatment and by the way in which the girlsin the district school talk of her. 

Ruth makes three friends from the start, however, who, in their severalways, help her to endure her troubles. One is Aunt Alvirah Boggs, whois nobody's relation but everybody's aunt, and whom Jabez Potter, themiller, has taken from the poorhouse to keep his home tidy andcomfortable. Aunt Alvirah sees the good underlying miserly UncleJabez's character when nobody else can. She lavishes upon the littleorphan girl all the love and affection that she would have given to herown children had she been blessed with any. 

Ruth's other two close friends were the Cameron twins, Helen and Tom, the children of a wealthy storekeeper who lived not far from the RedMill. The early adventures of these three are all related in the firstbook of the series, "Ruth Fielding of the Red Mill. "

One virtue of Uncle Jabez's, which shines as brightly in his rathergloomy character as a candle in the dark, is that he always pays hisdebts. If he considers he owes anybody anything he is not satisfieduntil he pays it. Therefore, when Ruth recovers some money which hadbeen stolen from him, he is convinced that it is only right for him topay her tuition for at least a year at Briarwood Hall, where she goesto school with Helen Cameron, while Tom goes to a boy's boarding schoolcalled Seven Oaks. 

The girls and Tom and his friends often got together for good timesduring their school years, and, in successive volumes, we meet them inwinter adventures in the Northern woods at Snow Camp; in the summer atLighthouse Point; in Wyoming at Silver Ranch; in lakeside and woodsyadventures on Cliff Island; enjoying most exciting weeks at SunriseFarm, where Ruth wins a reward of five thousand dollars in aiding inthe recovery of a pearl necklace stolen by the Gypsies. There arevolumes, too, telling of the serious loss by fire of a dormitorybuilding at Briarwood and how Ruth Fielding rebuilt it by theproduction of a moving picture; of her vacation down in Dixie; of herfirst year at Ardmore College, which she and Helen and several of herBriarwood chums entered; then of Ruth Fielding in the saddle when shewent West again, this time for the production of a great pictureentitled: "The Forty-Niners. "

With the entrance into the war of the United States, Tom Cameronenlisted and went to France as a second lieutenant with the firstExpeditionary Force. Ruth and Helen went into Red Cross work, leavingcollege before the end of their sophomore year for that purpose. 

Ruth could not go as a nurse, but in the Supply Department she gainedcommendation and when a supply unit of the Red Cross was sent to Franceshe went with it, while Helen went over with her father, who was on acommission to the front. Once there, the black-eyed girl found work todo in Paris while Ruth was enabled to be of use much nearer the front. 

Indeed, at the opening of the present story the girl of the Red Mill isat work in the evacuation hospital at Clair, right behind a sector ofthe battle line that had been taken over by General Pershing's forces. Tom Cameron is with his regiment not many miles away. Indeed, hiscompany might be engaged in this very activity that had suddenly brokenout within sound, if not in sight, of Clair and the Chateau Marchand. 

There was reason for Ruth Fielding's gravity of countenance--and graveit was, despite its natural cheerfulness of expression--for herinterest in Tom Cameron and his interest in her had long been marked bytheir friends. Tom was in peril daily--hourly. It was no wonder thatshe revealed the ravages of war upon her mind. 

"Sh!" whispered Henriette. "Here comes Dolge, the gardener. Now thatBessie is gone he is the oldest person Madame la Countess has in heremploy. "

"I wonder what became of Bessie. Monsieur Lafrane told me she was notapprehended with those men who helped her get away from the chateau. "

"It is a mystery. She had served Madame so many years. And then--atthe last--they say she was a spy for _les Boches_!"

Dolge appeared, with his toothless grin, at the round opening in thepostern. 

"The little Hetty and _Mademoiselle l'Americaine_, " he mumbled. "Madame la Countess expects you. "

He unchained the door and let them pass through. Then he shut andchained the door again just as though the chateau was besieged. 

The girls did not wait for him. They walked up the curved avenue tothe wide entrance to the great pile of masonry. The chateau was aslarge as a good-sized hotel. 

Before the war there had been many comforts, Ruth understood, that nowthe countess was doing without. For instance, electric lights and somekind of expensive heating arrangement. 

Now the lady of the chateau burned oil, or candles, like the peasants, and the chateau doors were wide open that the sun and air of thisgrateful day might help dry the tomb-like atmosphere of the receptionhall. 

"_Ma foi_!" said Henriette, commenting on this in a low voice, "eventhe beautiful old armor--the suits of mail that the ancient Marchandswore in the times of the Crusades--is rusty. See you! madame has notservants enough now to _begin_ to care for the place. "

"I suppose she has stored away the rugs and the books from the libraryshelves, " began Ruth; but Henriette quickly said:

"_Non_! _non_! You do not understand, Mademoiselle, what our good ladyhas done. The wonderful rugs she has sold--that off the library floor, which, they say, the old count himself brought from Bagdad. And thebooks--all her library--have gone to the convalescent hospitals, or tothe poilus in the trenches. For they, poor men, need the distractionof reading. "

"And some of your neighbors suspect her, " repeated Ruth thoughtfully. 

"It is because of that awful Thing--the werwolf!" hissed Henriette. 

Then there was time for no further speech. A middle-aged womanappeared, asked the girls in, and led the way to the library. A tablewas set near the huge open fireplace in which a cheerful fire crackled. On the table was a silver tea service and some delicate porcelain cupsand saucers. 

The kettle bubbled on the hob. Chairs were drawn close before theblaze, for, despite the "springiness" in the air without, theatmosphere in the vast library of the chateau was damp and chill. 

As the girls waited before the fire a curtain at the end of the roomswayed, parted, and the tall and plainly robed figure of the countessentered. She had the air of a woman who had been strikingly beautifulin her younger days. Indeed, she was beautiful still. 

Her snowy hair was dressed becomingly; her checks were naturally pinkand quite smooth, despite the countless wrinkles that netted herthroat. The old lace at the neck of her gown softened her ivory-huedskin and made its texture less noticeable. 

Her gown was perfectly plain, cut in long, sweeping lines. Nor did shewear a single jewel. She swept forward, smiling, and holding out herhand to Ruth. 

"Here is our little Hetty, " she said, nodding to the French girl, whoblushed and bridled. "And Mademoiselle Fielding!" giving the latter awarm handclasp and then patting Henriette's cheek. "Welcome!" She putthem at their ease at once. 

The few family portraits on the walls were all the decorations of theroom. The book cases themselves were empty. Madame la Countess madethe tea. On the table were thin slices of war bread. There was nobutter, no sugar, and no milk. 

"We are learning much these days, " laughed the countess. "I am evenlearning to like my chocolate without milk or cream. "

"Oh!" And Henriette whipped from the pocket of her underskirtsomething that had been making her dress sag on that side. When sheremoved the wrappings she produced a small jar of thick yellow cream. 

"My child! It is a luxury!" cried the countess. "I shall feel wicked. "

"Perhaps it will be nice to feel wicked for once, " Ruth said, feeling alittle choke in her throat. 

She drew from concealment her own contribution to the "feast"--severallumps of sugar. 

"Do not fear, " she added, smiling. "None of the poor poilus aredeprived. This is from my own private store. I wish there was more ofit, but I can't resist giving a lump now and then to the villagechildren. They are so hungry for it. They call me 'Mam'zelle Sucre'. "

"And I would bring you cream often, Madame, " Henriette hastened to add, "but our good old Lally died, you know, and the little cow does notgive much milk as yet, and it is not as rich. Oh! if that werwolf hadnot appeared to us! You remember, Mademoiselle Ruth? Then old Lallydied at once, " and the French girl nodded her head vigorously, beingfully convinced of the truth of the old superstition. 

The countess flushed and then paled, but nobody but Ruth noticed this. The American girl watched her hostess covertly. The bare mention of asuperstition that had the whole countryside by the throat, disturbedmuch the countess' self-control. 

The next moment there was a step in the hall and then the door openedto admit the same young officer Ruth Fielding had met in thelane--Major Henri Marchand. 

"Pardon, Maman, " he said, bowing, and speaking to his mother quite likea little boy. "Do I offend?"

"Do come in and have a cup of tea, Henri. There is sugar and realcream--thanks to our two young friends here. You remember our petiteHetty, of course? And this is our very brave Mademoiselle RuthFielding, of the American Red Cross. My younger son, Monsieur Henri, "the countess said easily. 

Major Marchand advanced into the room promptly. To Henriette he bowedwith a smile. Ruth put out her hand impulsively, and he bowed lowabove it and touched his lips to her fingers. 

The girl started a little and glowed. The manner of his address rathershocked her, for she was unused to the European form of greeting. Henri's deep, purple eyes looked long into her own brown ones as helingeringly released her hand. 

"Mademoiselle!" he murmured. "I am charmed. "

Ruth did not know whether she was altogether charmed or not! She feltthat there was something rather overpowering in such a greeting, andshe rather doubted the sincerity of it. 

She could understand, however, little Henriette's sentimental worshipof the young major. Henri Marchand was the type of man to hold theinterest of most girls. His eyes were wonderful; his cheek as clearand almost as soft as a woman's; he wore his uniform with an airscarcely to be expressed in ordinary words. 

Henriette immediately became tongue-tied. Ruth's experience had, however, given her ease in any company. The wonderful Major Marchandmade little impression upon her. It was plain that he wished tointerest the Americaine Mademoiselle. 

The little tea party was interrupted by the appearance of Dolge at thelibrary door. 

"A young American in an ambulance inquires for Mademoiselle Fielding atthe gate, " said Dolge, cap in hand. "She is needed in haste, belowthere at the hospital. "

CHAPTER III

A PERILOUS PROJECT

"That can be no other than Charlie Bragg, " announced Ruth, getting upin haste, and naming a young friend of hers from the States who hadbeen an ambulance driver for some months. "Something must havehappened. "

"I fear something is happening, " Major Marchand said softly. "Thesudden activity along this front must be significant, don't you think, Mademoiselle Fielding?"

Ruth's lips were pressed together for a moment in thought, and she eyedthe major shrewdly. 

"I really could not say, " she observed coldly. Then she turned fromhim to take the hand of the countess. 

"I'm sorry our little tea must be broken in upon, " the American girlsaid. 

She could not help loving the countess, no matter what some of theneighbors believed regarding her. But Ruth had her doubts about thisson who was always in Paris and never at the front. 

Henriette was too bashful to remain longer than Ruth, so she rose to goas well. The countess kissed her little neighbor and sent her favor tothe girl's father and mother. Major Marchand accompanied the twovisitors out of the chateau and toward the entrance gate, which Dolgehad not opened. 

"I sincerely hope we may meet again, Mademoiselle Fielding, " the majorsaid softly. 

"That is not likely, " she responded with soberness. 

"No? Do you expect to leave Clair soon?"

"No, " she said, and there was sharpness in her voice. "But I am muchengaged in our hospital work--and you are not likely to be broughtthere, are you?"

Evidently he felt the bite in her question. He flushed and dropped hisgaze. Her intimation was not to be mistaken. He seemed unlikely to bebrought wounded to the hospital. 

Before he could recover himself they were at the gate. Dolge openedthe postern and the two girls stepped through, followed by the Frenchofficer. The young fellow in the American ambulance immediately hailedRuth. 

"Oh, I say, Miss Ruth!" he cried, "sorry to hunt you out this way, butyou are needed down at the hospital. "

"So I presume, or you would not have come for me, Charlie, " she toldhim, smiling. "What is it?"

"Supplies needed for one of the field hospitals, " he said. "And I tellyou straight, Miss Ruth, they're in bad shape there. Not half enoughhelp. The supply room of that station is all shot away--terriblething. "

"Oh, dear!" gasped Ruth. "Do you mean that the Germans have bombed it?"

"It wasn't an air raid. Yet it must have been done deliberately. Theydropped a Jack Johnson right on that end of the hospital. Twoorderlies hurt and the girl who ran the supply room killed. They wantsomebody to come right up there and arrange a new room and new stock. "

"Oh! you won't go, Mademoiselle Ruth?" shrieked Henriette. 

"It would be extremely dangerous, " Major Marchand said. "Another shellmight drop in the same place. "

"Oh, we settled that battery. They tell me it's torn all to pieces. When our doughboys heard the Red Cross girl was killed they were wild. The gunners smashed the German position to smithereens. But it wasawful for her, poor thing. 

"The station needs supplies dreadfully, just the same, " added CharlieBragg. "And somebody who knows about 'em. I told the _médicin-chef_I'd speak to you myself, Miss Ruth----"

"I'll go with you. They can get along at Clair without me for a fewdays, I am sure. "

"Good, " returned Charlie, and moved over a little to make room on theseat for her. Major Marchand said:

"There must be something big going on over there. Is it a generaladvance, Monsieur?"

Ruth flashed him a look and laid her fingers gently on Charlie Bragg'sarm. The ambulance driver was by no means dull. 

"I can't say what is on foot, " he said to the French officer. "Ishould think you might know more about it than I do, " he added. 

His engine began to rattle the somewhat infirm car. Charlie winkedopenly at Henriette, who laughed at him. The car began to move. MajorMarchand stood beside the road and bowed profoundly again to Ruth--thatbow from the hips. It was German, that bow; it proved that hismilitary education had not been wholly gained in France. 

She could not help doubting the loyalty of Major Henri Marchand as wellas that of his older brother, the present count. Their mother might bethe loveliest lady in the world, but there was something wrong with hersons. 

Here the younger one was idling away his time about the chateau, or inParis, so it was said, while the count had suddenly disappeared and wasnot to be found at all! Neither had been engaged in any dangerous workon the battle front. It was all very strange. 

The bouncing ambulance was swiftly out of sight of the chateau gate. Ruth sighed. 

"Say! isn't there anybody at all who can go with those supplies they'rein need of but you, Miss Ruth?" inquired Charlie Bragg, lookingsideways at her. 

"No. I am alone at Clair, you know quite well, Charlie. The suppliesare entirely under my care. I can teach somebody else over there atthe bombed hospital in a short time how to handle the things. Meanwhile, the matron--or somebody else--can do my work here. It wouldnot do to send a greenhorn to such a busy hospital as this must be towhich you are taking me. "

"Busy! You said it!" observed the driver. "You'll see a lot of roughstuff, Miss Ruth; and you haven't been used to that. What'll TomCameron say?" and he grinned suddenly. 

Ruth laughed a little. "Every tub must stand on its own bottom, AuntAlvirah says. I must do my duty. "

"It'll be a mighty dangerous trip. I'm not fooling you. There areplaces on the road---- Well! the Boches are all stirred up and theyare likely to drop a shell or two almost anywhere, you know. "

"You came through it, didn't you?" she demanded pluckily. 

"By the skin of my teeth, " he returned. 

"You're trying to scare me. "

"Honest to goodness I'm not. They sent me over for the supplies andsomebody to attend to them. "

"Well?" she said inquiringly, as Charlie ceased to speak. 

"But I didn't think you'd have to make the trip. Isn't there anybodyelse, Miss Ruth?" and the young fellow was quite earnest now. 

"Nobody, " she said firmly. "No use telling me anything more, Charlie. For the very reason the trip is dangerous, you wouldn't want me to putit off on somebody else, would you?"

He said no more. The car rattled down into the little town, with itscrooked, paved streets and its countless smells. Clair was the centerof a farming community, and, in some cases, the human inhabitants andthe dumb beasts lived very close together. 

The hospital sprawled over considerable ground. It was but two storiesin height, save at the back, where a third story was run up for the"cells" of the nurses and the other women engaged in the work. Ruthran up at once to her own tiny room to pack her handbag before she didanything else. 

The matron met her at the supply-room door when she came down. She wasa voluble, if not volatile, Frenchwoman of certain age. 

"I dread having you go, Mademoiselle Ruth, " she said, with her armabout the girl. "I feel as though you were particularly in my care. If anything should happen to you----"

"You surely would not be blamed, " said Ruth, smiling. "Somebody mustgo and why not I? Please send two orderlies to carry out these boxes. This list calls for a lot of supplies. Surely the ambulance will befilled. "

Which was, indeed, the case. When she finally went downstairs, turningthe key of her store-room over to the matron, the ambulance body wascrowded with cases. The stretchers had been taken out before CharlieBragg drove in. Ruth must occupy the seat beside him in front. 

She did not keep him waiting, but ran down with her bag and crept inunder the torn hood beside him. Several of the nurses stood in thedoor to call good-bye after her. The sentinel in the courtyard stoodat attention as the car rolled out of the gate. 

"Well, " remarked Charlie Bragg, "I hope to thunder nothing busts, that's all. You've never been to the front, have you?"

"No nearer than this, " she confessed. 

"Humph! You don't know anything about it. "

"But is the hospital you are taking me to exactly at the front?"

"About five miles behind the first dressing station in this sector. It's under the protection of a hill and is well camouflaged. Butalmost any time the Boches may get its range, and then--good-night!"

With which remark he became silent, giving his strict attention to thecar and the road. 

CHAPTER IV

UNDER FIRE

The day was fading into evening as the car went over the first ridgeand dropped out of sight of Clair and the sprawling hospital in whichRuth Fielding had worked so many weeks. 

She felt that she had grown old--and grown old rapidly--since coming toher present work in France. She was the only American in thathospital, for the United States Expeditionary Forces had only of latetaken over this sector of the battle line and no changes had been madein the unity of the workers at Clair. 

They all loved Ruth there, from the matron and the surgeon-in-chiefdown to the last orderly and porter. Although her work was supposed tobe entirely in the supply department, she gave much of her time to thepatients themselves. 

Those who could not write, or could not read, were aided by theAmerican girl. If there was extra work in the wards (and that happenedwhenever the opposing forces on the front became active) Ruth wascalled on to help the nurses. 

Thus far no American wounded had been brought into the ClairHospital--a fact easily understood, as the entire force save Ruth wasFrench. It would not be long, however, before the American Red Crosswould take over that hospital and the French wounded would be sent tothe base hospital at Lyse, where Ruth had first worked on coming toFrance. 

Up to this very moment--and not an unexciting moment it was--RuthFielding had never been so far away from Clair in this direction. Inthe distance, as they mounted another ridge, she saw the flaring lightswhich she had long since learned marked the battle front. The gunsstill muttered. 

Now and again they passed cavities where the great shells had burst. But most of these were ancient marmite holes and the grass was againgrowing in them, or water stood slimy and knee-deep, and, on the edgesof these pools, frogs croaked their evensong. 

There were not many farmhouses in this direction. Indeed, this part ofFrance was "old-fashioned" in that the agricultural people lived inlittle villages for the most part and went daily to their fields towork, gathering at night for self-protection as they had done sincefeudal times. 

Now and again the ambulance passed within sight of a ruined chateau. The Germans had left none intact when they had advanced first into thispart of the country. They rolled through two tiny villages whichremained merely battered heaps of ruins. 

Orchards were razed; even the shade trees beside the pleasant roads hadbeen scored with the ax and now stood gaunt and dead. Some weresplintered freshly by German shells. As the light faded and the roadgrew dim, Ruth Fielding saw many ugly objects which marked the"frightfulness" of the usurpers. It all had a depressing effect on thegirl's spirits. 

"Are you hungry, Miss Ruth?" Charlie Bragg asked her at last. 

"I expect I shall be, Charlie, " she replied. "Our tea at the chateauwas almost a fantom tea. "

"Gosh! isn't it so?" he said slangily. "What these French folks liveon would starve me to death. Mighty glad to have regular Yankeerations. But, " he added, "we'll be too late to get chow when we cometo the hospital, I am afraid. We'll try Mother Gervaise. "

"Who is Mother Gervaise?" asked Ruth, glad to have some topic ofconversation with the ambulance driver. 

"She's an old woman who used to be cook at one of these chateaux here, they say. She'll feed us well for four francs each. "

"Four francs!"

"Sure. Price has gone up, " said Charlie dryly. "These French folk arebound to think that every American is a millionaire. And I don't knowbut it is worth it, " and he grinned. "Think of being looked on as aJohn D. Rockefeller everywhere you go! I'd never rise to such a heightin the States. "

"No, I presume not, " Ruth admitted with a laugh. "But how is it thatthis Mother Gervaise, as you call her, is not afraid to stay here?"

"She stays to watch the gold grow in her stocking, " Charlie replied, shrugging his shoulders almost as significantly as a Frenchman. 

"Oh! Is she that much of a miser?"

"You've said it. She stayed when the Germans first came and fed them. When they retreated she stayed and met the advancing British (theFrench did not come first) with hot soup, and changed her price frompfennigs to shillings. Get her to tell you about it. It is worthlistening to--her experience. "

Charlie Bragg stopped the car suddenly and got out. Ruth looked aheadwith curiosity. The road seemed rather smooth and quite unoccupied. There was a group of trees, tortured by gunfire, which hid a turn inthe track and what lay beyond. Charlie was tinkering with the engineof the machine. 

"What is the matter?" Ruth ventured to ask. 

"Nothing--yet, " he returned. "But we've got to get around that nextturn in a hurry. "

"Why?"

"It's a wicked corner, " said Charlie. "I might as well tell you--thenyou won't squeal if anything happens. "

"Oh! Do you think I am a squealer?" she demanded rather tartly. 

"I don't know, " and he grinned again. He was an imp of mischief, thisCharlie Bragg, and she did not know how to take him. 

"You're not 'spoofing me, ' as our British brothers put it?"

"It's an honest-to-goodness bad corner--especially at night, " Charliereturned quite seriously now. "Boches know we fellows have to useit----"

"You mean the ambulances?"

"Yep. They spot us. We run without lights, you know; but every oncein a while they drop a shell there. They have the range perfectly. They caught one of my bunkies there only a week ago. "

"Oh, Charlie! An American?"

"No. Scotch. Only Scotty in this section, and a mighty nice fellow. Well, he'll never drive that boat again. "

"Oh!" gasped Ruth. "Was he killed?"

"Shucks! No!" scoffed Charlie. "But his ambulance was smashed tobits. Luckily he hadn't any load with him at the time. But it wouldhave been all one to the Boches. "

Bragg got in beside the girl again, tried out his levers, and suddenlyshot the car ahead. 

"Hang on!" cried Charlie Bragg under his breath. 

The ambulance shot down to the corner. It was all black shadow there, and, as Charlie intimated, he dared use no lights. If there was anobstruction they would crash into it!

The dusk had fallen suddenly. The sky was overcast, so not a starflecked the firmament. Through the gloom the ambulance raced, theyoung fellow stooping low over the steering wheel, trying to peer ahead. 

How many hundreds of times had he made similar runs? Ruth had neverbefore appreciated just what it meant to be driving an ambulancethrough these roads so near the battle front. 

For five minutes a heavy gun had not spoken. Suddenly the horizonahead lit up with a broad white flare. There came the resonant reportof a huge gun--so distant that Ruth knew it could be nothing but aGerman Bertha. 

Almost instantly the whine of a shell was audible--coming nearer andnearer! Ruth Fielding, cowering on the seat of the automobile, felt asthough the awful missile must be aimed directly at her!

The car shot around the curve where the broken trees stood. With ayell like that of a lost soul--a demon from the Pit--the shell wentover their heads and exploded in the grove. 

The ambulance was spattered with a hail that might have been shrapnel, or stones and gravel--Ruth did not know. The hood sheltered her. Shewas on the far side of the seat, anyway. 

And then, with a shout of warning, Charlie shut down and tried to stopthe car within its own length. Ruth saw a hole yawning before them--apit in the very middle of the road. 

"They've dropped one here since I came along!" yelled the young man, just as the ambulance pitched, nose first, into the cavity. 

They were stalled. Suppose the Boches sent another shell hurtling tothis spot? They were likely to be wiped out in a breath. 

CHAPTER V

MOTHER GERVAISE

Neither Ruth nor the driver was thrown out of the stalled ambulance. But Charlie jumped out in a hurry and held out his hand to the girl. 

"You got to beat it away from here, Miss Ruth, " he urged. "Another ofthose shells is likely to drop any minute. Hurry!"

Ruth had no desire to stay at that perilous corner of the road; butwhen she started away from the stalled car she found that she was alone. 

"Aren't you coming, Charlie Bragg?" she demanded, turning back. 

"Go on! Go on!" he urged her. "I've got to get this old flivver outof the mud. Keep right on to a little house you'll see on the leftunder the bank. Don't go past it in the dark. That's MotherGervaise's cottage. It's out of reach of the Boches' shells. "

"But you'll be killed, Charlie Bragg!" wailed the girl, suddenlyrealizing all the peril of their situation. 

"Haven't ever been killed yet, " he returned. "I tell you I've got toget this flivver out of the hole. These supplies have got to be takento that field hospital. They're needed. I can't leave 'em here andrun. "

"But you expect me to run!" burst out Ruth, in sudden indignation. 

"You can't help here. No use your taking a chance. You'll be inenough danger later. Now, you go on, Miss Ruth. Scoot! Here comesanother!"

They heard the whine of the flying shell almost on top of the thud ofthe distant gun. Charlie seized her hand and they ran up the road forseveral yards. Then he stopped short, as the shell burst--this timefar to the left of the stalled ambulance. 

"Gosh!" he exclaimed. "You've got me rattled, too. Here! I'll goalong to Mother Gervaise with you. Some of the fellows may be thereand I can get help. Come on. "

"Oh, Charlie!" murmured the girl. "I'm afraid for you. "

"Trying to make me a quitter, are you?" he demanded. "Don't you knowthat if the Boches get you, they get you, and that's all there is toit? And one way or another that fliver's got to be got out of thathole. "

Ruth was silenced. This young fellow--"boy" he called him in her ownmind--had a quality of courage that shamed her. It was just the kindof bravery needed for the work he was doing in the war--a measure ofrecklessness that keeps one from counting the cost too exactly. Charlie Bragg had a philosophy of his own that kept him cheerful in theface of peril and was eminently practical at just this time. 

He hurried her along the road, his hand under her elbow, seemingly ableto see in the dark like a cat. But it was all black before Ruth'seyes, and she stumbled more than once. Her knees felt weak. 

"I--I _am_ scared, Charlie, " she confessed, almost in a whisper. 

"Yep. So was I, at first. But you know a fellow can't give in to it. If he does he'll never get to be a first-class ambulance driver. I betsome of the boys will be here at Mother Gervaise's and I can get help. "

Another moment, and they seemed to turn a corner in the road and Ruthsaw a small patch of light at the left of the roadway. She made it outto be an open window--the swinging shutter flung back against the wall. There was no glass in the opening. 

"There it is, " Charlie said. "You might have passed it right by, alone. You see, the house is close up against the high bank, and thehill is between us and the front. The Boches can't drop a shell here. It's a regular wayfarer's rest. There's a car--and another. We'll beall right now. "

Ruth saw the outlines of the two cars parked beside the road. Theyoung fellow led her directly toward the patch of yellow lamplight. She saw finally a broad, thatched cottage, the eaves of the high-peakedroof almost within reach as they came to the door. 

Charlie Bragg knocked, then, without waiting for a summons to enter, lifted the wooden latch and shoved the sagging door open. 

"Hello, folks!" he said. "Got shelter for a couple of babes in thewoods? I got stalled down there at the Devil's Corner, and---- Let meintroduce Miss Fielding. She's real folks like ourselves. "

He had pushed Ruth in and entered behind her. Two young men--plainlyAmericans--rose from the table where they were eating. A squarelybuilt woman bent over the fire at the end of the room. She did notlook around from her culinary task. 

"Hello, Bragg!" was the response from the other ambulance drivers. 

"Cub Holdness and Mr. Francis Dwyer, " said Charlie, introducing thetwo. "I've got stalled, fellows. "

He swiftly told of the accident and the two young men left the table. The Frenchwoman turned and waddled toward the table, stirring spoon inhand and volubly objecting. 

"_Non, non_!" she cried. "You would spoil the so-good ragout. If youdo not eat it while it is hot----"

"The ragout can be heated over, " put in Charlie. "But if the Bochesget my car with a shell--good-night! Come on, fellows. And bring arope. I believe we three can pull the old girl out. "

The boys tramped out of the cottage. Mother Gervaise turned to Ruthand stared at her with very bright, black eyes. 

She was a broad-faced woman, brown and hearty-looking, and with a moreintelligent appearance than many of the peasants Ruth had seen. Shewore sabots with her skirt tucked up to clear her bare ankles. Herteeth were broad and strong and white, and she showed them well as shesmiled. 

"The mademoiselle is _Americaine_?" she said. "Like these_ambulanciers_? Ah! brave boys, these. And mademoiselle is of the_Croix Rouge_, is it not?"

"I am working in the hospital at Clair, " Ruth told her. "I am on myway with supplies to a station nearer the front. "

"_Ma foi_!" exclaimed Mother Gervaise. "This has been a bad business. You will sup, Mademoiselle, yes?"

"I will, indeed. The accident has not taken away my appetite. "

"Isn't it so? We must eat, no matter what next happens, " said thewoman. "Me, now! I am alone. My whole family have been destroyed. My husband and his brother--both have been killed. I had no children. Now I think it is as well, for children are not going to have muchchance in France for years to come. All my neighbors have scattered, too. "

"Then you have always lived here? Even before the war?" Ruth asked. 

"_Oui, Mademoiselle_. Always. I was born right in that corner yonder, on a straw pallet. The best bed my mother had. We have grown richsince those days, " and she shrugged her shoulders. 

"I was an only child and the farm and cot came to me. Of course, I hadplenty of the young men come to make love to me and my farm. I wouldhave none of that kind. Some said I went through the wood and pickedup a crooked stick after all. But Pierre and me--_ma foi_! We werehappy, even if the old father and Pierre's brother must come here tolive, too. 

"The old father he die before the Germans come. I thank _le bon Dieu_for that. Pierre and his brother were mobilized and gone before thehorde of _les Boches_ come along this road. I am here alone, then. Ibegin making coffee and soup for them. Well, yes! They are men, too, and become hungry and exhausted. I please them and they treat me well. I learn what it means to make money--cash-money; and so I stay. Moneyis good, Mademoiselle. 

"I might have wished poison into their soup; but that would not havekilled them. And had I doctored it myself I would have been hung, andbeen no better off. So I made friends, " and she smiled grimly. 

"But I learned how boastful men could be--especially Germans. One--hewas a major and one of the nobility--stayed here overnight. Hepromised to take me back to Germany when the war was over--which wouldbe in a few weeks. They were to be in Paris in a few days then. 

"He promised I would be proud when I became all German. France, hesaid, would never be a separate country again. For most of thepeople--my people--he said, were weaklings. They would emigrate toAmerica and the remaining would intermarry with Germans. So all Francewould become Germany. 

"When he was awake, he was full of bombast, that major! When he wasasleep he snored outrageously. Ugh! For the first time in my life Ihate anybody, " declared Mother Gervaise, shuddering. 

"But he paid me well for his lodging. And his men paid me for thesoup. They marched past steadily for two days. Then they were goneand the country all about was peaceful for a week. At the end of thattime they come back. "

Here Mother Gervaise smiled, but it was a victorious smile. Her facelighted up and her eyes shone again. 

"Pellmell back they came, " she repeated. "It was a retreat. Many hadlost their guns and their packs. I had no soup for them. I said I hadlost my poulets and all. But it was not so. I had them hidden. 

"The orderly of my major came in here, threw up his hands, and shouted:'No Paris! No Paris!' And then he tramped on with his fellows. Theychopped the trees and blew up many houses. But mine was marked, as theBoches did in those first days: 'These are good people. Let them be. 'So I was not molested, " finished Mother Gervaise. 

"Now, sit you down, Mademoiselle, at the table. Here where I havespread a napkin. The ragout----

"Bless us and save us!" she added, as a sudden roar of voices soundedoutside the cot and the throaty rattle of a motor engine. "Whom havewe here?"

She went to the door and flung it open. Ruth hesitated at the chair inwhich she had been about to be seated. Outside she saw bunched severaluniformed men. They were hilariously pushing into the cottage, thrusting the excited Mother Gervaise aside. 

CHAPTER VI

THE MYSTERY

Ruth Fielding's rising fear was quenched when she saw the faces of thenewcomers more clearly. They were those of young men belonging to theAmerican Expeditionary Forces, as their uniforms betrayed. And theywere teasing Mother Gervaise in the free and easy way of American youth. 

Nor was she anywhere near as angry as she assumed. They pushed herinto the cottage and crowded in themselves before they saw Ruthstanding at the end of the long table. Then, quite suddenly, theirvoices fell. 

Not so Mother Gervaise. She fetched one of her tormentors a sharpsmack with the palm of her hand. 

"_Un vaurien_!" she cried, meaning, in the slang of the day, "good-for-nothing. " "You would take my house by storm! Do you thinkit is a Boche dugout you charge when you come to Mother Gervaise?"

The silence of the rough and careless fellows was becoming marked. Already the Frenchwoman was noticing it. She turned, saw their eyesfixed upon Ruth, and remarked:

"Ha! It's well they respect the mademoiselle. Come in, wicked ones, and shut the door. "

Ruth, relieved, saw that all were young commissioned officers--a very, very young captain, two first lieutenants, and several subalterns. They bowed rather bashfully to Ruth, and could not take their eyes offher. 

One finally said: "You must be the lady at the Clair Hospital--MissFielding? You're the only American girl at that station. "

"I am Miss Fielding, " Ruth returned. Her eyes shone, her tone grewsofter. She saw that he belonged to Tom Cameron's regiment. "I have afriend in your regiment--Mr. Cameron. Lieutenant Thomas Cameron. Ishe on duty with you?"

Their respectful silence when they tumbled in and saw her was marked. But the utter dumbness that followed this question was so impressivethat Ruth could almost hear her own heart beat. 

"What---- He is not _hurt_?" she cried, looking from one to the other. 

"I believe not, Miss Fielding, " the captain said. "He is not on dutywith us. I can tell you nothing about Lieutenant Cameron. "

The decision with which he spoke and the expression upon the faces ofthe others, appalled the girl. She could not find breath to askanother question. 

Mother Gervaise bustled forward to set upon the napkin she had spread aplate of the ragout for Ruth. The latter sank into the chair. Theyoung officers gathered upon the other side of the hearth. They werehopelessly dumb. 

There was a noise outside--the chugging of a car. It was a welcomerelief. The door opened again and Charlie Bragg and the other two boysentered. 

"Well, the Boches didn't get us that time, " said Charlie, withsatisfaction. "Nor the old fliver, either. Hello! Here's GeneralHaig and all his staff. Or is it General Disorder? Hurry up with theMulligan, Mother Gervaise--we've got to gobble and go. "

He slipped into the seat next to Ruth, smiling at her. He was just ahungry, slangy boy. But those others----

Ruth could scarcely force the food down; but she determined to make ameal for her body's sake. She did not know what was before her--howmuch work, or how hard it would be, before she obtained another meal. She managed to ask:

"Is the car all right again, Charlie?"

"You can't bust it!" he declared enthusiastically. "The Britishersmake all manner of fun of 'em. Call 'em 'mechanical fleas' and allthat. But with a hammer, a monkey-wrench, and some bale-wire, a fellowcan perform major and minor operations on a fliver in the middle of agarageless wilderness and come through all right when better cars areleft for the junk department to gather up and salvage. "

The other two ambulance drivers to whom Ruth had been introduced cameto the table and finished their suppers, Mother Gervaise grumblinglydishing up more hot stew for them. 

"It is for you and such as you I slave and slave, " she said. "And whatthanks do I get?"

"For _la zozotte_ do you work, Mother, " said one, laughing. "And whowould want better thanks than money?"

But Ruth kissed the woman when she rose to depart. She believed MotherGervaise was "tender under her rough skin, " as is the saying. 

The young officers had not come to the table while Ruth remained; nordid Charlie pay much attention to them. At least, he did not try tointroduce them, and Ruth was glad of that. 

There was something wrong. There was a mystery. Why should TomCameron's own associates act so oddly when his name was mentioned?

She merely bowed to the officers, but shook hands with Charlie'sbrother _ambulanciers_. There seemed to her something very wholesomeand fine about these youths who drove the ambulances. They had--mostof them--come to France and enlisted in their present employment beforethe United States got into the war at all. 

She suspected that many of them were of that class known about theirhome neighborhoods as "that boy of Jones', " or "that Jackson kid. " Inother words, their overflow of animal spirits, or ambition, or whateverit was, had probably made them something of a trial to their neighbors, if not to their families. 

Ruth began to see them in a sort of golden glow of heroism. They werethe truer heroes because they denied this designation. Charlie grewred and gruff if she as much as suggested that he was doing anythingout of the ordinary. Yet she knew he had written a book about hisfirst year's experiences and his brother had found a publisher for itin New York. His share of the proceeds from that book was going to theRed Cross. 

Into the ambulance they climbed, and again they were rolling over thedark and rough road. Ruth gathered together all her courage and asked:

"Do you know anything about Tom Cameron?"

"Tom Cameron?"

"Yes, " she said. "I want to know what's happened to him, Charlie. "

"For the love of Pete!" gasped the young fellow. "I didn't knowanything had happened to him--again. "

"I must know, " Ruth told him, her voice quivering. "Some of thoseofficers belonged to his battalion. _All_ were of his regiment. Butwhen I asked about him they refused to answer. "

"You don't mean it!" Plainly Charlie Bragg was nonplussed. "I thoughtthey acted funny, " he said, with a sudden grin, which she sensed ratherthan saw. "But I thought it was girlitis. It has a terrible effectupon these fellows that haven't seen a real American girl for so long. "

"I am serious, Charlie, " she told him. "Something has happened toTom--or about him. It seems to me that those officers were afraid tospeak of it. As though there was something--something disgracefulabout it!"

"Oh, say!" murmured Charlie. "That's not sense, you know. "

"Of course Tom could do nothing disgraceful. But why should those menbe afraid to speak of him?" cried the shaken girl. "He can't bewounded again. That can't be it. Haven't you heard a word?"

She suddenly realized that her companion had grown silent. He made nocomment now upon her speech. She waited a full minute before burstingout again:

"You _have_ heard something, Charlie! Something about Tom!"

"I--I don't know, " he muttered. "I didn't know it was Tom. "

"What is it?" she demanded with rising eagerness. 

"I don't know that it's about Cameron _now_, " he muttered. "I shouldhope not. "

"Charlie Bragg! Do you want to drive me wild?" she demanded, clutchingat his arm. 

"Hold on! You'll have us in the ditch, " he warned her. 

"You answer me--at once!" she commanded. 

"Oh---- But what can I say? I don't know anything. I don't believeTom Cameron would be tricky--not a bit. And as for selling out to theBoches----"

"What _do_ you mean?" almost shrieked the girl. "Are you crazy, Charlie Bragg?"

"There you go, " he grumbled. "I told you I didn't know anything--forsure. But I heard some gossip. "

"About Tom?"

"I didn't know it was about Tom. And I don't know now. But what yousay about how funny those chaps acted----"

"_Do_ explain!" begged Ruth. "Come right out with it, Charlie. "

"Why, I heard a chap had been accused of giving information to theenemy. Yes. One of our own chaps--an American. It's said he met aBoche spy on listening post--right out there between the lines. He wasseen twice. "

"Not Tom?"

"No name told when I heard it. First a fellow saw him talking to afigure that stole away toward the German line. This fellow told histop sergeant, and toppy told his captain. They waited and watched. Three men saw the same thing happen. They were going to have theblamed traitor up before the brass hats when all of a sudden hedisappeared. "

"Who disappeared?" gasped Ruth Fielding. 

"This chap they suspect gave information to the Boches. He'sgone--like that!"

"Captured?" questioned Ruth breathlessly. 

"Or gone over to them, " returned Charlie, with evident unwillingness. 

Ruth sighed. "But that never could be Tom Cameron!"

"You wouldn't think so, " was the reply. "But that's all I can guessthat those fellows had in mind when they would not answer you--goodgracious, look at that!"

He braked madly. The ambulance rocked and came to an abruptstandstill. Across the track, scarcely two yards before the nose ofthe car, had dashed a white object, which, soundlessly, was gone inhalf a minute--swallowed up in the shadowy field beside the road. 

"We see it again, Ruth, " said Charlie Bragg, with a strange solemnity. 

"What do you mean?" she demanded, but her voice, too, shook. 

"The werwolf. That dog--whatever it is. Ghost or despatch-bearer, whatever you call it. I got a good sight of it again, Miss Ruth. Didn't _you_?"

CHAPTER VII

WHERE IS TOM CAMERON?

That the peasants of the surrounding territory should believe in thatold and wicked legend of the werwolf was not to be considered strange. There is not a country in Europe where the tale of the human being whocan change his form at will to that of a wolf, is not repeated. 

Ruth Fielding had come across the superstition--and for the first timein the company of Charlie Bragg--as she had approached the town ofClair to begin her work in that hospital some months before. 

This same white figure which they had both now glimpsed had crossed theroad, flying as it was now toward the trenches. The werwolf, as thesuperstitious French peasants declared it to be, crossed both to andfrom the battle line; for it was frequently seen. 

It was of this mystery Henriette Dupay had spoken in the library of thechateau that very afternoon. The Dupays believed absolutely in thereality of the werwolf. 

Only, they were not of those who connected the "Thing" with the lady ofthe chateau. Although Ruth Fielding had reason to believe that thepolice authorities trusted the Countess Marchand and were sure of herloyalty, many of the peasants about the chateau believed that thewerwolf was the unfortunate countess herself in diabolical form. 

And even Ruth could not help feeling a qualm, as she saw thefast-disappearing creature--ghost or what-not--that fled into thedarkness. 

"Gosh!" murmured the slangy Charlie Bragg. "Enough to give a fellowheart-disease. I thought I was going to run it down. "

"I wonder, " said Ruth slowly, as he again started the car, "if it wouldnot have been a good thing if you had run it down. "

"Can't bust up a ghost that way, Miss Ruth, " he returned, beginning tochuckle again. 

"Talk sense, Charlie, " she urged, forgetting for the moment the subjectof the suspicion resting upon Tom Cameron and giving her mind to thisother mystery. "You know, I've an idea this foolishness about a whitewolf can be easily explained. "

"Go ahead and explain, " he returned. "I'm free to confess it's got meguessing. "

"I believe it is the big greyhound, Bubu, that belongs to the ChateauMarchand. It is sent on errands to and from the frontier. "

"Canine spy?" chuckled Charlie. 

"I don't know just what he does. But I did think that the old servingwoman, Bessie, that the countess brought with her from Mexico so manyyears ago, knew all about Bubu's escapades. But Bessie is not at thechateau now. "

"Oh, " said Charlie, "she was the woman who went off with those twocrooks who helped your friend, Mrs. Rose Mantel, rob the Red Crosssupply department. "

"Not _my_ friend, I should hope!" Ruth said sharply, for the matterCharlie touched upon was still a tender subject with the girl. 

Her mind dwelt for a moment upon the presence of Major Henri Marchandat the chateau. He was there, and the greyhound, Bubu, was running atlarge again at night. Was there not something significant in the twofacts? But she said nothing regarding this suspicion to the ambulancedriver. 

Instead, she came back to the subject which had occupied their mindsprevious to the appearance of the white object that had crossed theroad. 

"Of course, it is quite ridiculous, " she said, "to think of TommyCameron doing anything at all treacherous. I can imagine his doingalmost anything reckless, but always on the right side. "

"Some little hero, is he?" chuckled Charlie Bragg. 

"I think he is the stuff of which heroes are made--just like yourself, Charlie Bragg. "

"Oh! I say!" he objected. "Now you are getting personal. "

"Then don't try to be funny with me, " declared Ruth earnestly. "I havetoo good an opinion of all our well-brought-up American boys--to whichclass both Tom and you belong--to believe that any of them could bemade under any conditions to betray their fellows. "

"Oh, as to that!" he admitted. "Nor any of our roughnecks, either. We've got a mighty fine army over here, rank and file. Deliberately, Idoubt if any of them would give information to the Heinies. But theydo say that when the Huns capture a man, if they want information, theydon't care what they do to him to get it. The old police third degreeisn't a patch on what these Boches do. "

"I am not afraid that even torture would make Tom do anything mean, "she said, with a little sob. "But these officers back there at thatcottage must actually believe that he has gone over to the enemy. "

"If Cameron is the fellow I heard about this morning, " Charlie saidgloomily enough, "it is generally believed that he has been two daysbeyond the lines--and he didn't _have_ to go. "

"Oh! Impossible!"

"I'm repeating what I heard. This flurry during the afternoon is anoutcome of his disappearance. The German guns caught a train ofammunition camions and smashed things up pretty badly. Many trickslike that pulled off will make us mighty short of ammunition in thissector. Then Heinie can come over the top and do with us just as hepleases. Naturally, if the boys believe Cameron is at fault, they aregoing to be as sore on him as a boil. "

"It would be utterly impossible for Tom to do such a thing!" the girldeclared with finality. 

Her assurance made the matter no less terrible. Ruth had no belief atall in Tom's willingly giving himself up to the enemy. Had there beena hundred witnesses to see him go, she would have denied thepossibility of his being a traitor. 

But she was very silent during the rest of that wild ride. Now andthen they were stopped by sentinels and had to show their papers. Atleast, the Red Cross girl had to show hers. Charlie was pretty wellknown by everybody in this part of the war zone. 

They would come to a dugout in the hillside, or a half-hidden hut, andbe challenged by a sentinel, or by one of the military police. Apocket lamp would play upon Ruth's face, then upon her passport, andthe sentinel would grunt, salute, and the car would plunge on again. It seemed to Ruth as though this went on for hours. 

All the time her brain was active with the possibilities surroundingTom Cameron's disappearance. What could really have happened to him?Should she write to Helen in Paris, or to his father in America, of themystery? Indeed, would the censor let such news pass?

Once she had believed Tom seriously wounded, and for several days hadhunted for him, expecting to find him mutilated. Fortunately herexpectations at that time had been unfounded. 

It seemed now, however, as though there could be no doubt but somethingvery dreadful had happened to her friend. Added to his peril, too, wasthis awful suspicion that others seemed to hold regarding Tom'sfaithfulness. 

It was going to be very hard, indeed, for Ruth Fielding to keep hermind on her work in the Red Cross while this uncertainty regardingLieutenant Cameron remained. 

CHAPTER VIII

THE CHOCOLATE PEDDLER

There was the flash of a lamp ahead. 

"Here we are!" cried Charlie Bragg, in a tone of relief, bringing thecar to a rocking stop. 

Ruth Fielding could see but little as she looked out from under thehood of the ambulance. Yet she imagined there was a ridge of landbehind the compound at the entrance to which they had halted. 

Charlie got out and helped her down. A second man appeared in thegateway of the stockade beside the sentinel. The girl approached withthe ambulance driver, who said:

"Here she is, Doc. And a load of stuff she says you'll need. This isMiss Fielding--and she's a regular good fellow. Doctor Monteith, MissFielding. "

"I am glad to see you, " the surgeon said warmly, taking the bag fromRuth and seizing her cold hand in his warm clasp. "We are very busyhere and very short of supplies. Our stores were utterly destroyedwhen----"

He did not finish his statement, but ushered her into the compound. There were a few twinkling lights. She saw that there were a number ofhuts within this enclosure, each being, of course, a ward. 

They left Charlie Bragg and an orderly to remove the supplies from theambulance while the surgeon took Ruth to the hut that was to be herown. On the way they passed a crushed and shapeless mass that mightonce, the girl thought, have been another hut. 

"Is that----?" she asked, pointing. 

"Yes. The shell dropped squarely on it. We got her out from under thewreckage after putting out the fire. She was killed instantly, " saidthe surgeon. "You are not frightened, Miss Fielding?"

"Why--yes, " she said gravely. "I have, however, been frightenedbefore. We have had night air raids at Clair. But, as Charlie Braggsays, 'I have not been killed yet. '"

"That is the way to look at it, " he said cheerfully. "It's the onlyway. Back in all our minds is the expectation of sudden death, Isuppose. Only--if it _is_ sudden! That is what we pray for--if it isto come. "

"I know, " Ruth said softly. "But let us keep from thinking of it. Whois this lady?" she asked a moment later. 

"Ah!" said the gentlemanly surgeon, seeing the figure in the doorway ofthe new supply hut. "It is our matron, Mrs. Strang. A lovely lady. Iwill leave you to her kindness. "

He introduced the girl to the elderly woman, who examined Ruth withfrank curiosity as she entered the hut. 

"You are a real American, I presume, " the woman said, smiling. 

"I hope so. "

"Not to be frightened by what has happened here already?"

"We expect such sad happenings, do we not?"

"Yes. We must. But this was a terrible thing. They say, " the matronobserved, "that it was the result of treachery. "

"Oh! You do not mean----?"

"They say a man has sold a map of this whole sector to the Boches. A_man_--faugh! There are such creatures in all armies. Perhaps thereare more among our forces than we know of. They say many of foreignblood among the Expeditionary Force are secretly against the war andare friends of the enemy. "

"I cannot believe that!" cried Ruth. "We are becoming tainted with thefears of the French. Because they have found so many spies!"

"We will find just as many, perhaps, " said Mrs. Strang, bitterly. "France is a republic and the United States is a republic. Doesfreedom breed traitors, I wonder?"

"I guess, " Ruth said gently, "that we may have been too kind to certainclasses of immigrants to the United States. Unused to liberty theyspell it l-i-c-e-n-s-e. "

"There are people other than ignorant foreigners who must be watched inthese awful times, " the matron said bitterly. "There are teachers inour colleges who sneer at patriotism just as they sneer at religion. Whisper, Miss Fielding! I am told that the very man they suspect inthis dreadful thing--the American who has sold a map of this sector tothe Germans--came from one of our foremost colleges, and is an Americanbred and born. "

Ruth could not speak in answer to this. Her heart throbbed painfullyin her throat. To so accuse Tom Cameron of heartless and dastardlytreachery!

She could not defend him. To defend was to accuse! If everybodybelieved this awful thing----

Ruth was just as sure of Tom Cameron's guiltlessness as she was of herown faithfulness. But how damning the circumstantial evidence must beagainst him!

She was thankful she heard nothing more of this thing that night. Charlie and other men brought in the supplies. She could not arrangethem then, for she was exhausted. She only waited to lock the doorwhen all the supplies were placed, and then found the hut where thewomen of the Red Cross slept. 

She had here a narrow cot, a locker and chair, and the privacy of amovable screen. Nothing else. 

This was real "soldiering, " as she soon found. Her experiences at Lyseand at Clair had been nothing like this. In one town she had lived ata pension, while at the latter hospital she had had her own little cellin the annex. 

However, the girl of the Red Mill never thought of complaining. Ifthese other earnest girls and women could stand such rough experienceswhy not she?

She slept and dreamed of home--of the Red Mill and Uncle Jabez and AuntAlvirah Boggs, with her murmured, "Oh, my back! and oh, my bones!" Shewas again a child and roamed the woods and fields along the LumanoRiver with Tom Cameron and Helen. 

"I wish I were at home! I wish I were at home!" was her waking thought. 

It was the first time she had whispered that wish since leaving theStates. But never before had her heart been so sore and her spirit sodepressed. 

When, some weeks before, she had believed Tom Cameron seriouslywounded, she had been frightened and anxious only. Now the whole worldseemed to have gone wrong. There was nobody with whom she could conferabout this awful trouble. 

She arose, and, after making her toilet and before breakfast, went outof the hut. She beheld an entirely different looking landscape fromthat which she was used to about Clair. 

Through the gateway of the compound she saw a rutted road, with dunfields beyond. Behind, the ridge rose abruptly between the hospitaland the battle front. 

A red-headed young Irishman in khaki stood at the gateway, or trampedup and down with his rifle on his shoulder. He could not look at thegirl without grinning, and Ruth smiled in return. 

"'Tis a broth of a mornin', Miss, " he whispered, as she drew near. "Beyou the new lady Charlie Bra-a-agg brought over last night?"

"Yes. I am to take the place of the girl who--who----"

She faltered and could not go on. The Irish lad nodded and blinkedrapidly. 

"Bedad!" he muttered. "We'll make the Boches pay for that when we goover the top. Never fear. "

He halted abruptly, became preternaturally grave, and presented arms. The young surgeon, Dr. Monteith, who had met Ruth the night before, tramped in from a morning walk. 

"Good morning, Miss Fielding. Did you sleep?"

She confessed that she did. He smiled, but there was a deep creasebetween his eyes. 

"I am glad you are up betimes. We need some of your supplies. Can Isend the orderlies with the schedule soon?"

"Oh, yes! I will try to be ready in half an hour, " she cried, turningquickly toward the hut, of which she carried the key. 

"Wait! Wait!" he called. "No such hurry as all that. You have notbreakfasted, I imagine? Well, never neglect your food. It is vital. I shall not send to you until half-past eight. "

He saluted and went on. Ruth went to the hut in which the nursesmessed. The night shift had just come in and she found them apleasant, if serious, lot of women. And of all nationalities byblood--truly American!

There was an air about the nurses in the field hospital different fromthose she had met in institutions farther back from the battle line. There were serious girls there, but there was always a spatter ofirresponsibles as well. 

Here the nurses were like soldiers--and soldiers in active anddangerous service. There was a marked reserve about them and anexpression of countenance that reminded Ruth of some of the nuns shehad seen at home--a serenity that seemed to announce that they hadgiven over worldly thoughts and that their minds were fixed upon higherthings. 

There was a hushed way of speaking, too, that impressed Ruth. It wasas though they listened all the time for something. Was it for thewhine of the shells that sometimes came over the ridge and droppedperilously near the hospital?

As the day went on, however, the girl found that there was considerablymore cheerfulness and light-heartedness in and about the hospital thanshe supposed would be found here. Having straightened out her own hutand supplied the various wards with what they needed for the day, shewent about, getting acquainted. 

It was a large hospital and there were many huts. In each of theseshelters were from two dozen to forty patients. A nurse and an orderlytook care of each hut, with a night attendant. Everybody was busy. 

There were many visitors, too--visitors of all kinds and for allimaginary reasons. People came in automobiles; these had passes frommilitary authorities to see and bring comforts to the wounded. Andthere were more modest visitors who came on foot and brought baskets ofjams and jellies and cakes and home-made luxuries that were eagerlywelcomed by the wounded. For soldiers everywhere--whether well orill--develop a sweet tooth. 

Into the compound about midafternoon Ruth saw a tall figure slouch witha basket on his arm. It had begun to drizzle, as it so often doesduring the winter in Northern France, and this man wore a bedrabbledcloak--a brigandish-looking cloak--over his blue smock. 

She had never seen such a figure before; and yet, there was somethingabout the man that seemed familiar to the keen-eyed girl. 

"Who is he?" she asked a nurse standing with her at the door of a ward, and pointing to the man slouching along with his basket across the openway. 

"Oh, that? It is Nicko, the chocolate peddler, " said the nursecarelessly. "A harmless fellow. Not quite right--here, " and shetapped her own forehead significantly. "You understand? They say helived here when first the Boches used their nasty gas, and he wascaught in a cellar where a gas bomb exploded, and it affected hisbrain. It does that sometimes, you know, " she added sadly. 

Ruth's eyes had followed the chocolate seller intently. Around acorner of a hut swung the surgeon, who was already the girl's friend. He all but ran against the slouching figure, and he spoke sharply tothe man. 

For an instant the chocolate peddler straightened. He stood, indeed, in a very soldierly fashion. Then, as the quick-tempered surgeonstrode on, Nicko bowed. He bowed from the hips--and Ruth gasped as shesaw the obeisance. Only yesterday she had seen a man bow in that sameway!

CHAPTER IX

COT 24--HUT H

The guns on the battle front had been silent for twenty-four hours; butthere were whispers of the Yankees "getting back" at the Heinies inreturn for the outbreak of German gunfire which had startled RuthFielding the afternoon she had taken tea at the Chateau Marchand. 

The outbreak of the new attack--this time from the American side--beganabout nine o'clock at night. A barrage was laid down, behind which, Ruth learned, several raiding parties would go over. 

Just the method of this advance across No Man's Land Ruth did notunderstand. But all the time the guns were roaring back and forth(for, of course, the Germans quickly replied) she knew the Americanboys were in peril all along that sector. 

That was a bad night for Ruth. She lay in her cot awake, but with hereyes closed, breathing deeply and regularly so that those about herthought she was asleep. 

In the morning the matron said:

"You are really quite wonderful, Miss Fielding, to sleep through allthat. I wish I could do the same. "

And all night long Ruth had been praying--praying for the safety of theboys that had gone over the top, not for herself. That she was indanger did not greatly trouble her. She thought of the soldiers. Shethought particularly of Tom Cameron--wherever he might be!

The flurry of gunfire was over by dawn. After breakfast Ruth went downto the gate. She had heard the ambulances rolling in for hours, andnow she saw the stretcher-bearers stumbling into the receiving wardwith the broken men. Here they were operated upon, when necessary, andsorted out--the _grands blessés_ sent to the more difficult wards, theless seriously wounded to others. 

Curiosity did not bring Ruth to the gate. It was in the hope of seeingCharlie Bragg that she went there. Nor was she disappointed. 

His shaky old car rolled up with three men under the canvas and onewith a bandaged arm sitting on the seat beside him. Charlie was paleand haggard. Half the top of the ambulance had been shot away sinceshe had ridden in it, and the boy had roughly repaired the damage witha blanket. But he nodded to Ruth with his old cheerful grin. Nothingcould entirely quench Charlie Bragg. 

"Got tipped over and holed up in a marmite cave for a couple of hoursduring the worst of it last night, " he told Ruth. "Never mind. Itgave me another chapter for my new book. Surely! I'm going to write asecond one. They all do, you know. You rather get the habit. "

"But, Charlie! Is--is there any news?" she asked him, with shakingvoice and eyes that told much of her anxiety. 

He knew well what she meant, and he looked grim enough for a minute, and nodded. 

"Yes. A little. "

"Oh, Charlie! They--they haven't found him?"

"No. Maybe they'd better _not_, " breathed the boy, shaking his head. "I don't think there's any hope, Miss Ruth. "

"Oh, Charlie! He's not _dead_?"

"Better be, " muttered the boy. "I wouldn't ask if I were you. Itlooks bad for him--everybody says so. "

"You know him, Charlie Bragg!" she burst out angrily. "Can _you_believe Tom Cameron would do such a wicked thing as this they accusehim of?"

"We-ell. I don't want to believe it, " he agreed. "But, look here!"and in desperation he pulled something from his pocket. "You knowthat, don't you?"

"Why! Tom's matchbox!" cried the girl, taking the silver box andseeing the initials of the lost soldier on the case. She had had itengraved herself--and Helen had paid for the box. They had given it toTom when he went to Harvard for his Freshman course. 

"Of course. I've seen him use it, too, " Charlie Bragg hurried to say. "I knew it and begged it of the fellow who found it. "

"Where did he find it?"

"You know, some of our boys went across and visited the Heinies lastnight, " Charlie said gently. "They got right into the German trenchesand drove out the Heinies. And in a German dugout--before they blew itup with bombs--this chap I talked with picked up that box. "

"Oh, Charlie!" gasped the girl. 

"Yes. He didn't see the significance of the monogram. He didn't knowMr. Cameron personally, I think. He was slightly wounded and I helpedhim with first aid. He gave the box to me as a German souvenir, " andthe driver of the ambulance looked grim. 

"Then they surely have got poor Tom!" whispered Ruth. 

"At least, it looks as though he went over that way, " agreed the boysadly. 

"Don't speak so, Charlie!" she cried. "I tell you he has been takenprisoner. "

"We-ell, " drawled her friend again, "we can't know about that. "

"But we _will_ know!" she said, with added vehemence. "It will allcome out in time. Only--it will be too late to help poor Tom, then. "

"Gosh!" groaned Charlie Bragg. "It's too late to help him now--if youshould ask me!"

Ruth had nobody to talk to about Tom Cameron save the young ambulancedriver. And him she could see but seldom. 

For fear of having to explain to her chum, she could not write to HelenCameron, who was in Paris. Just now, too, she was too busy for letterwriting. 

Mrs. Strang found a girl to help Ruth in the supply hut, one who waswilling and able to learn all about the merchandise under Ruth's care. The latter was not asked to remain at this hospital outpost for long. Her place was at Clair, and, until the Red Cross directors deliberatelychanged her, Ruth must give her first thought to the Clair SupplyHeadquarters. 

She saw, however, that she would be several days at this fieldhospital. She had been glad to come in hope of learning somethingabout Tom. Now she saw that she was doomed to disappointment. 

This locality was the last place in which to search for news of thelost lieutenant. Everybody here (everybody who spoke of the matter atall) believed that Tom Cameron had played the traitor and, for money orsome other unexplained reason, had gone over to the enemy. 

"As though poor Tom could even dream of such a thing!" she thought. 

She must keep her opinion to herself. She was too wise to start anyargument on the affair. It might be, if she kept still, that she wouldlearn something of significance that would lead to an explanation ofthe terrible event. 

What she personally could do to save Tom's reputation she did not evenimagine at the time. Nevertheless, there might be some chance of doinghim a good turn. 

As for his personal safety, she had lost all hope of that. Shebelieved he had been captured by the Germans, and she had heard toomany stories of their treatment of prisoners to hope that he wouldescape injury and actual torture. 

It was said that the enemy would treat the first Americans capturedwith particular harshness, in hope of "frightening the Yankees. " Sheknew that the advancing Canadians had found their captured brotherscrucified on barn doors in the early months of the war. Why should theYankees expect better treatment from the Huns?

With this load of anxiety and fear upon her heart, Ruth still foundtime for interest in what went on about her. She was an observantgirl. And, as ever, her sympathies were touched in behalf of thewounded. 

Although the American Red Cross had taken over this field hospital, most of the wounded were Frenchmen. 

She was glad to see so many visitors daily bringing comforts for themen; but of all those who came she noted particularly thepeculiar-looking Nicko, the chocolate vender. Daily he came, and Ruthalways observed both his comings and goings. 

Never did he fail to go into a particular ward--one of those in whichthe more seriously wounded patients lay--Hut H. She sometimes saw himgoing through the aisles at his funny, wabbling gait, offering hiswares to the soldiers. The latter jeered at him, or joked with him, astheir mood was. He wore an old battered hat, the brim of which floppedover his face and half masked his features. 

One afternoon Ruth met the strange fellow at the door of Hut H. Shewas going out as he was coming in. The man backed away from her, mumbling. She threw a coin into his basket and took a small package ofchocolate. 

"_Bien obligé, Mademoiselle_!" he was startled into saying, and bowedto her. It was not the stiff, martial bow she had before noted, butthe sweeping, ingratiating bow of the Frenchman. Ruth walked on, butshe was startled. 

Finally she turned swiftly and went back to the door of Hut H. Thenurse on duty had just come from the end of the ward. Over hershoulder Ruth saw Nicko halt beside one of the cots far down the line. 

"Who is that Nicko converses with?" Ruth asked idly. 

"Oh, his friend, the Boche. Didn't you know we had a German officerwith us? Cot 24. Not a bad fellow at all. Yes, Nicko never fails tosell our Boche friend chocolate. He is a regular customer. "

"Cot 24--Hut H, " Ruth repeated in her own mind. She would not forgetthat. And yet--did it mean anything? Was there something wrong withNicko, the chocolate peddler?

CHAPTER X

DEVOURING SUSPICION

She had been at the field hospital for a week. It seemed to RuthFielding at last as though she could not remain "holed up" like arabbit any longer. 

At Clair she had been used to going out of the hospital when she likedand going anywhere she pleased. Here she found it was necessary tohave a pass even to step out of the hospital compound. 

"And be careful where you walk, Miss Fielding, " said Dr. Monteith, ashe signed her pass. "Do not go toward the battle front. If you do youmay be halted. "

"Halted!" repeated Ruth, not quite understanding. 

"And perhaps suspected, " he said, nodding gravely. "Even your RedCross will not save you. "

"Oh, dear me!" exclaimed the girl. "Is everybody suspected of spying?I think it has become a craze. "

"We do not know whom to suspect, " he said. "Our closest friends may beenemies. We cannot tell. "

"But, Doctor Monteith, who are in this district save our soldiers andthe French inhabitants?" asked Ruth. 

"True. But there may be a traitor among us. Indeed, it is believedthat there has been, " and Ruth winced and looked away from him. "Asfor our allies here--well, all of them may not be above earning Germangold. And they would think it was not as though they were betrayingtheir own countrymen. There are only United States soldiers in thissector now, as you say, Miss Fielding. "

"I cannot imagine people being so wicked, " sighed the girl. 

"No matter how it is done, or who does it, the enemy is gettinginformation about our troops and condition, as the last two attackshave proved. So take care where you go, Miss Fielding, and what youdo, " he added earnestly. 

She promised, and went away with her pass. It was late afternoon andher duties were over for the day. She would not be needed at thesupply hut until morning. And, indeed, the girl she was breaking inwas already mastering the details of the work. Ruth could soon go backto her own work at Clair. 

She walked nimbly out of the compound gate, making sure that she wasfollowing a road that led away from the front. Nobody halted her. Indeed, she was soon passing through a little valley that seemed aspeaceful and quiet as though there was no such thing as war in theworld. 

The path she followed was plainly but a farm track. It wound betweennarrow fields that had not been plowed the season before--not even bycannon-shot. Somehow the big shells had flown over this little valley. 

The sun was setting, and the strip of western sky above the hills wastinged with his golden glories. Already pale twilight lay in thevalley. But in this latitude the twilight would long remain. She didnot hasten her steps, nor did she soon turn back toward the fieldhospital. 

She saw a cottage half hidden behind a hedge of evergreens. It stoodin a small square of muddy garden. There was a figure at work in thispatch--the tall, stoop-shouldered figure of a man. He was diggingparsnips that had been left out for the frost to sweeten. 

He used the mattock slowly and methodically. With the cottage as abackground, and the muddy bit of garden, the picture he made wastypical of the country and the people who inhabited it. 

Suddenly she realized that she recognized the ragged blue smock and theold droop-brimmed hat he wore. It was Nicko, the chocolate vender. This must be his place of abode. 

Ruth hesitated. She had felt some shrinking from the man before; nowshe realized she was afraid of him. He had not seen her and she stoodback and watched him. 

Of a sudden another man appeared from around the corner of the cottage. Ruth was more than glad, then, that she had not shown herself. Sheturned to retrace her steps. 

Then she looked again at this new figure in the picture. She almostspoke aloud in her amazement. The newcomer was dressed exactly asNicko was dressed--the same blue and ragged smock, shapeless trousers, wooden shoes, and with a hat the twin of the one the first Nicko wore. Indeed, it was a second Nicko who stood there in the bit of gardenbefore the laborer's cot. 

But amazement and suspicion did not hold her to the spot for long. Shedid not wish to be discovered by the pair. She was confident now thatthere was something altogether wrong with Nicko the chocolatepeddler--and his double!

Out of view of the cottage she hurried her steps. Through the gloamingshe sped up the path in the valley toward the high-road on which facedthe hospital stockade. 

Her thoughts were in a tangle of doubt. Yet one clear thread ofdetermination she held. She must give her confidence to somebody--shemust relate her suspicions to some person who was in authority. 

Not the medical chief of staff at this field hospital. Nor did shewish to go to the commanding officer of this sector, whoever he mightbe. Indeed, she almost feared to talk with any American officer, forTom Cameron seemed to be entangled in this web of deceit and treacheryinto which she believed she had gained a look. 

There was a man whom she could trust, however; one who would knowexactly what to do, she felt sure. And it would be his business toexamine into the mystery. The moment she returned to Clair Ruth wouldget into communication with this individual. 

Thus thinking, she hurried on and had almost reached the highway whensomething made her look back. Not a sound; for even the sleepy birdshad stopped twittering and there was no rustle of night wind in thebare shrubbery about her. 

But mysteriously she was forced to turn her head. She looked down thepath over which her feet had sped from the laborer's cot. There wassomething behind her!

Ruth did not scream. A form came up the track swiftly and at first shesaw it so indistinctly that she had no idea what it really was. Hadshe been spied by the men in the garden, and was one of them followingher?

She trembled so that she could not walk. She crouched back against thehedge, watching fearfully the on-rush of the phantom-like apparitioncoming so swiftly up the path. 

CHAPTER XI

THE FLYING MAN

While yet the silent figure was some rods away Ruth Fielding realizedthat it was no human being. It was not one of the men she had seen inthe garden of Nicko's cottage. 

This creature came too swiftly up the path and skimmed the ground tooclosely. A light-colored object--swift, silent and threatening ofaspect. 

The girl shrank against the hedge, and the next instant--with a rush ofpassage that stirred the air all about her--the Thing was gone! It wasagain that strange and incomprehensible apparition of the werwolf!

If it was Bubu, the greyhound she had seen at the Chateau Marchand, hewas much lighter in color than when he appeared pacing beside hismistress on the chateau lawns. The phantom had dashed past so rapidlythat, in the gathering dusk, Ruth could make out little of its realappearance. 

Headed toward the battle lines, it had disappeared within seconds. Thegirl, her limbs still trembling, followed in haste to the highway. Already the creature had been swallowed up in the shadows. 

She went on toward the hospital gateway and had scarcely recovered herself-control when she arrived there. Altogether, her evening'sexperience had been most disconcerting. 

The two men, dressed alike and apparently of the same height andshambling manner, whom she had seen in Nicko's garden, worried herquite as much--indeed, worried her even more than the sight of themysterious creature the peasants called the werwolf. 

More than ever was she determined to take into her confidence somebodywho would be able to explain the mystery of it all. At least, he wouldbe able to judge if what made her so anxious was of moment. 

And Tom Cameron's disappearance, too! Ruth's worry of mind regardingher old friend propped her eyes open that night. 

In the morning she went over the stock shelves again with the girl shehad trained, and finally announced to Mrs. Strang that she felt shemust return to Clair. After all, she had been assigned to the jobthere and must not desert it. 

An ambulance was going down to Clair with its burden of wounded men, and Ruth was assigned to the seat beside the driver. He chanced to be"Cub" Holdness, one of the ambulance drivers to whom Ruth had beenintroduced by Charlie Bragg at Mother Gervaise's cottage the night ofher trip up to the field hospital. 

Holdness was plainly delighted to have the girl with him for the driveto Clair. He was a Philadelphia boy, and he confessed to having had nochance to drive a girl--even in an ambulance--since coming over. 

"I had one of those 'reckless roadsters' back home, " he sighed. "Dadsaid every time his telephone rang he expected it was me calling fromsome outlying police station for him to come and bail me out foroverspeeding. 

"And there was a bunch of girls I knew who were just crazy to have metake 'em for a spin out around Fairmount Park and along the speedways. Just think, Miss Fielding, of the difference between those times andthese, " and he nodded solemnly. 

"I should say there was a difference, " laughed Ruth, trying to appearin good spirits. "Don't you get dreadfully tired of all these awfulsights and sounds?"

"No. Excitement keeps us keyed up, I guess, " he replied. "You know, there is almost always something doing. "

"I should say there was!"

She saw that while he talked he did not for a moment forget that he wasdriving three sorely wounded men. He eased the ambulance over therough parts of the road and around the sharp turns with infinite skill. It was actually wonderful how smoothly the ambulance ran. 

Occasionally they were caught in a tight corner and the machine jouncedso that moans of agony were wrung from the lips of the wounded behindthem on the stretchers. This, however, occurred but seldom. 

Once one of the men begged for water--water to drink and its coolnesson his head. They were passing a trickling stream that looked clearand refreshing. 

"Let me get out a moment and get him some, " begged Ruth. 

"Can't do it. Against orders. We're commanded not to taste water fromany stream, spring, or well in this sector--let alone give it to thewounded. Nobody knows when the water is poisoned. "

"But the Germans have been gone from this district so long now!" shecried. 

"They may have their spies here. In fact, " grumbled Holdness, "we aresure they do have friends in the sector. "

"Oh!"

"You know that Devil Corner Charlie Bragg drove you past the othernight? The shells have torn that all to pieces. We have to go fullytwo miles around by another road to get to Clair. We don't pass MotherGervaise's place any more. "

Ruth looked at him sadly but questioningly. 

"Do you believe that story they tell about one of our young officershaving gone over to the enemy?" she asked. 

Holdness flushed vividly. "I didn't know him. I've got no opinion onthe matter, Miss Fielding, " he said. "But somebody has mapped out thewhole sector for the Huns--and it has cost lives, and ammunition. Youcan't blame folks for being suspicious. "

The answer quenched her conversation. Ruth scarcely spoke again duringthe remainder of the journey. 

They welcomed her in most friendly fashion at the Clair Hospital. Butthe first thing she did after depositing her bag in her cell was to goto the telegraph office and put before the military censor thefollowing message addressed to the prefect of police at Lyse, "Will you please communicate with M. Lafrane. I have something ofimportance to tell him. "

She signed her name and occupation in full to this, and was finallyassured that it would be sent. M. Lafrane was of the secret police, and Ruth Fielding had been in communication with him on a previousoccasion. 

Several days passed with no reply from her communication to the police. Nor did any news reach her from the field hospital where she had beenengaged, nor from her friends at the front. Indeed, those working nearthe battle lines really know less of what is being done in this warthan civilians in America, for instance. 

Almost every night the guns thundered, and it was reported that theAmericans were making sorties into the German lines and bearing backboth prisoners and plunder. But just what was being accomplished RuthFielding had no means of knowing. 

Not having seen or heard from Henriette Dupay since her return, earlyin the following week Ruth started out to walk briskly to the Dupayfarm one afternoon. 

Of late the aeroplanes had become very numerous over this sector. Theywere, for the most part, American machines. But this afternoon shechanced to see one of the French Nieuports at close quarters. 

These are the scouting, or battle planes, and carry but two men and amachine gun. She heard the motor some moments before seeing theaeroplane rise over the tree tops. She knew it must have leaped from alarge field on this side of the Dupay farm and not far below thegateway of the Chateau Marchand. 

Ruth stopped to gaze upward at the soaring airplane. Her figure stoodout plainly in the country road and the two men aboard the Nieuportmust have immediately spied her. 

The machine dipped and scaled downward until she could have thrown astone upward and hit it. One of the men--masked and helmeted as theflying men always are--leaned from his seat, and she saw him lookingdown upon her through the tangle of stay-wires. 

Then he dropped a small white object that fell like a plummet at herfeet!

"What in the world can that be?" murmured the girl to herself. 

For a breath she was frightened. Although the aeroplane carried theFrench insignia it might be an enemy machine. She, too, was obsessedwith the fear of spies!

But the object that fell was not an explosive bomb. It was a weightedball of oiled silk. As the machine soared again and rapidly rose tothe upper air levels, the girl picked up the strange object and burstit open. 

The lead pellets that weighted the globe were scattered on the ground. Within there was nothing else but a strip of heavy document paper. Onthis was traced in a handwriting she knew well, this unsigned message:

"Don't believe everything you hear. "

It was Tom Cameron's handwriting--and Ruth knew that the message wasmeant for her eye and her eye only!

CHAPTER XII

AUNT ABELARD

Of course nothing just like this ever happened save in a fairystory--or in real life. The paper without address, but meant only forRuth Fielding, had fallen from the aeroplane. She had seen it fall ather feet and could not be mistaken. 

Who the two men in the French Nieuport were she could not know. Maskedand hooded as they were, she could distinguish the features of neitherthe pilot nor the man who had dropped the paper bomb. But--she wassure of this--they were somehow in communication with Tom Cameron. 

And Tom Cameron was supposed to have gone across the lines to theGermans, or--as Ruth believed--had been captured by them. Yet, if hewas a captive, how had he been able to send her this message?

Again, how did he know she was worried about him? He must have reasonto suspect that a story was being circulated regarding hisunfaithfulness. 

Who were those two flying men? Were they German spies? Had Tom been aprisoner in the hands of the Huns, would spies have brought this wordfrom him to her?

And how--and how--and how----?

Her queries and surmises were utterly unanswerable. She turned the bitof paper over and over in her fingers. She could not be mistaken aboutTom's handwriting. He had penciled those words. 

It was true, any friend of Tom's who knew his handwriting and mighthave picked up the loaded paper bomb, would have considered the writtenline a personal message. 

"Don't believe everything you hear. "

But, then, what friends had Tom in this sector of the battle front savehis military associates and Ruth Fielding? The girl never for onemoment considered that the written line might have been meant foranybody but herself. 

And she did with it the very wisest thing she could have done. Shetore the paper into the tiniest of bits, and, as she continued her walkto the Dupay farm, she dribbled the scraps along the grassy road. 

She began to have a faint and misty idea of what it all meant--Tom'sdisappearance, the general belief among his comrades that he was atraitor, and this communication which had reached her hands inseemingly so wonderful a manner. 

Tom Cameron had been selected for some dangerous and secret mission. It might have occasioned his entrance through the enemy's lines. Hewas on secret service beyond the great bombarding German guns!

If this was so he was in extreme peril! But he was doing his duty!

Ruth's heart throbbed to the thought--to _both_ thoughts! Hisdangerous work was not done yet. But it was very evident that he hadmeans of knowing what went on upon this side of the line of battle. 

The men recently flying over her head in the French air machine must becomrades of Tom's in the secret mission which had carried that youngfellow into the enemy's country. The message she had received might beonly one of several the flying men had dropped about Clair, and at therequest of Tom Cameron, the latter hoping that at least one of themwould reach Ruth's hands. 

The girl knew that American and French flying men often carriedcommunications addressed to the German people into Germany, and droppedthem in similar "bombs. " One of the President's addresses had beencirculated through a part of Germany and Austria by this means. 

She had a feeling, too, that the man who had thrown the message to herknew her. But Ruth could not imagine who he was. She might havebelieved it to be Tom Cameron himself; only she knew very well that Tomhad not joined the air service. 

The incident, however, heartened her. Whatever Tom was doing--nomatter how perilous his situation--he had thought of her. She had anidea that the message had been written within a few hours. 

She went on more cheerfully toward the Dupay farm. She arrived amidsta clamor of children and fowls, to find the adult members of the familygathered in the big living-room of the farmhouse instead of occupied, as usual, about the indoor and outdoor work. For the Dupays were nosluggards. 

"Oh, Mademoiselle Ruth!" cried Henriette, and ran to meet her. TheFrench girl's plump cheeks were tear-streaked and Ruth instantly sawthat not only the girl but the whole family was much disturbed. 

"What has happened?" the American girl asked. 

In these days of war almost any imaginable thing might happen. 

"It is poor old Aunt Abelard!" Henriette exclaimed in her own tongue. "She must remove from her old home at Nacon. "

Ruth knew that the place was a little village (and villages can besmall, indeed, in France) between Clair and the field hospital whereshe had herself been for a week, but on another road than that by whichshe had traveled. 

"It is too near the battle line, " she said to Henriette. "Don't youthink she should have moved long ago?"

"But the Germans left it intact, " Henriette declared. "She is verycomfortable there. She does not wish to leave. Oh, Mademoiselle Ruth!could you not speak to some of your gr-r-reat, gr-r-reat, braveAmerican officers and have it stopped?"

"Have _what_ stopped?" cried Ruth in amazement. 

"Aunt Abelard's removal. "

"Are the Americans making her leave her home?"

"It is so!" Henriette declared. 

"It is undoubtedly necessary then, " returned Ruth gently. 

"It is not understood. If she could remain there throughout the Germaninvasion, and was undisturbed by our own army, why should theseAmericans plague her?"

Henriette spoke with some heat, and Ruth saw that her mother and thegrandmother were listening. Their faces did not express their usualcheerful welcome with which Ruth had become familiar. Aunt Abelard'strouble made a difference in their feeling toward the Americans, thatwas plain. 

Nor was this to be wondered at. The French farmer is as deeply rootedin his soil as the great trees of the French forests. That is whytheir treatment by the German invader and the ruin of their farms havebeen so great a cross for them to shoulder. 

Ruth learned that Aunt Abelard--an aunt of Farmer Dupay, and awidow--had lived upon her little place since her marriage over half acentury before. Without her little garden and her small fields, andher cow and pig and chickens, she would scarcely know how to live. Andto be uprooted and carried to some other place! It was unthinkable!

"It is fierce!" said Henriette in good American, having learned thatmuch from Charlie Bragg. 

"I am sure there must be good reason for it, " Ruth said. "I willinquire. If there is any possibility of her remaining without being indanger----"

"What danger?" demanded Madame Dupay, clicking her tongue. "Do thesecountrymen of yours intend to let the Boches overrun our country again?_Our_ poilus drove them back and kept them back. "

Ruth saw she could say nothing to appease the rising wrath of thefamily. She was rather sorry she had chanced to come upon this day ofill-tidings. 

"Of course she will come here?" she asked Henriette. 

"Where else can she go?"

"Will your father go after her in the automobile?"

"What?" gasped Henriette. "That is of the devil's concoction, sothinks poor Aunt Abelard. She will not ride in it. And my father isbusy. Let the Yankees bring her--and her goods--if they desire toremove her from her own abode. "

Ruth could say nothing to soothe either her little friend nor the othermembers of the family. They could not understand why Aunt Abelard mustbe removed from her place; nor did Ruth understand. 

She was convinced, however, that there must be something of importanceafoot in this sector, and that Aunt Abelard's removal from her littlecottage was a necessity. The American troops in France were notdeliberately making enemies among the farming people. 

Henriette walked for some distance toward the hospital when Ruth wentback; but the French girl was gloomy and had little to say to herAmerican friend. 

When Ruth reached the hospital and was ascending to her cell at theback, the matron came hurrying through the corridor to meet her. Shewas plainly excited. 

"Mademoiselle Fielding!" she cried. "You have a visitor. In theoffice. Go to him at once, my dear. It is Monsieur Lafrane. "

CHAPTER XIII

AN UNEXPECTED MEETING

Monsieur Lafrane Ruth could count as one of her friends. Not manymonths before she had enabled the secret service man to solve acriminal problem and arrest several of the criminals engaged in aconspiracy against the Red Cross. 

She had not been sure that he would so quickly respond to her telegramto the elderly prefect of police at Lyse, who was likewise her friendand respectful admirer. 

This secret agent was a lean man of dark complexion. His manner wascordial when he rose to greet her. She knew that he was a very busyman and that he had responded personally to her appeal because he tooka deeper interest in her than in most people aside from those whoseacts it was his duty to investigate. 

They were alone in the small office of the hospital. He said crisplyand in excellent English:

"Mademoiselle has need of me?"

"I have something to tell you, Monsieur--something that I think may beof importance. Yet, as we Americans say, I may be merely stirring up amare's nest. "

"Ah, I understand the reference, " he said, smiling. "Let me be thejudge of the value of what you tell me, Mademoiselle. Proceed. "

Swiftly she told him of her visit to the field hospital so much nearerthe battle line than this quiet institution at Clair, and, in addition, told him of Nicko, the chocolate peddler, and his dual appearance. 

"There are two of the men. They dress exactly alike. I was suspiciousof the peddler the very first time I saw him. No Frenchman--not even aFrench soldier--bows as I saw him bow. "

"Ha!" ejaculated the secret agent. 

"He bows from the hips--the bow of a German military man. I--I haveseen them bow before, " Ruth hesitated, remembering Major HenriMarchand. "You understand?"

"But, yes, Mademoiselle, " said the Frenchman, his eyes flashing. 

"Then, " she went on, "I saw the man--or supposedly the same man--asecond time. He bowed very differently--just as an ordinary humbleFrench peasant might bow. "

"Could it not be that he forgot the second time you saw him?" queriedM. Lafrane. 

"I doubt it. There is something quite distinct in the air of the twomen. But I understand that whichever comes to the hospital with thebasket of sweets always has a word with the German officer in Hut H, Cot Twenty-four. You can easily find out about him. "

"True, " murmured the secret agent eagerly. 

Then she told him of her walk in the gloaming and what she had seen inthe garden of the peasant's cot--the two men dressed exactly alike. One must be the half-foolish Nicko; the other must be the spy. 

M. Lafrane nodded eagerly again, pursing his lips. 

"Mademoiselle, " he said quietly, "I will ask the good madame if you maybe relieved for the day. I have a car outside--a swift car. Can youshow me that cottage--Nicko's dwelling? I will bring you backimmediately. "

"Of a surety, " she told him in his own tongue, as he had spoken. "Wait. I will get my hat and coat. I may not know the nearest way tothe place. But----"

"I am familiar with this territory, " he said dryly. "We can strike it, I have no doubt, Mademoiselle. But I need you to verify the placeand--perhaps--to identify the man. "

"Not the spy?" she gasped. 

"Nicko, the peddler. "

"I see. I will be with you in the courtyard at once, Monsieur. "

When she came out he was ready to step into a two-seated roadster, hunglow and painted a battleship gray. A man in uniform on the front seatdrove. Ruth got in, was followed by the secret agent, and they started. 

She had much more in her heart and mind; but she doubted theadvisability of telling M. Lafrane. 

There was what she suspected about Major Henri Marchand. Could sheturn suspicion toward the son of her good friend, the countess? Andhis brother who, it was said, had run away?

Ruth felt that she had already told much that might cause the majortrouble. She did not know. She only suspected. 

As for Tom Cameron's trouble--and the mystery surrounding him--she didnot feel that she could speak to the secret agent about that. Tom'saffairs could have nothing to do with the work of this French criminalinvestigator. No. She hugged to her heart all her anxiety regardingTom. 

As soon as they left the hospital courtyard Ruth found that she wastraveling with a chauffeur beside whom Charlie Bragg's reckless drivingwas tame indeed. Besides, Charlie's lame car could not arrive at suchspeed as this racing type of automobile was capable of. 

By looking over the back of the front seat she obtained a glimpse ofthe speedometer, and saw the indicator traveling from sixty to seventy. After that she did not wish to look again. She did not want to know ifthey traveled faster. 

The road over which they went was strange to Ruth Fielding. It was bya much shorter way Charlie Bragg had taken her to the field hospital, and over which she had returned. 

They began before long to meet farmers' wagons, piled high withhousehold goods, on which sat the strange, sad-eyed children of the warzone, or decrepit old people, often surrounded by their fowls. Foreven the poorest and most destitute of the French peasants manage tohave "poulets. "

The processions of moving people amazed Ruth. She remembered what theDupays had said about Aunt Abelard, and she began to see that there wasa general exodus being forced from the country nearer the front in thissector. 

It was a fact that the people did not look happy. Now and then one ofthe American military police walked beside a wagon, as though he hadbeen sent on with the movers to make sure that they kept moving. 

The girl asked M. Lafrane nothing about this exodus. Perhaps he knewno more the reason for it than Ruth did. 

They came to a little dale between hills at last, and in this placestood a cottage and barns--a tiny homestead, but very neat, and onethat had been unmarred by the enemy. There were even fruit treesstanding. 

There was a huge wagon before the door, and into it must go thehousehold goods and the family as well--if there was a family. Itseemed that the wagon had just arrived, and the American soldiers withit scarcely knew what to do in this case. There was nothing packed, ready for removal, and an old woman--the only person about thefarmstead--was busy feeding her flock of chickens. 

"You must come, _vite_, Tante, " Ruth heard the corporal in charge ofthe squad say to the old woman. The automobile had stopped, for theroad was too narrow for it to pass the wagon. 

The old woman seemed to understand the American's mixture of Englishand French. She shook her head with emphasis. 

"But I cannot leave my pullets, " she said, aghast. "They will starve. You will go along, you Americans, and leave me alone. "

"You must come; Tante, " repeated the corporal, inflexibly. "You shouldhave prepared for this. You were warned in time. " Then to his men:"Go in, boys, and bring out her goods. Careful, now. Don't messanything up. "

"You cannot take my things. Your cart is already full, " shrilled theold woman. "And my pullets!"

The American soldiers entered the cottage. Between her anger at themand her fear for the safety of her chickens, the old woman was in apitiful state, indeed. Ruth looked at M. Lafrane. 

"Oh, can we not do anything for her?" she asked. 

"Military law knows no change--the laws of the Medes and Persians, " hesaid grimly. "She must go, of course----"

Suddenly he sat up more stiffly beside the American girl and his handwent to his cap in salute. He even rose, and, before Ruth lookedaround and spied the occasion for this, she knew it must foretell theapproach of an officer of importance. 

Coming along the road (he had been sheltered from her gaze before bythe laden wagon) was a French officer in a very brilliant uniform. Ruth gasped aloud; she knew him at a glance. 

It was Major Henri Marchand, in the full panoply of a dress uniform, although he was on foot. He acknowledged M. Lafrane's salutecarelessly and did not see the girl at all. He walked directly intothe yard surrounding the cottage. The corporal of the American squadwas saying:

"I am sorry for you, _ma mère_. But we cannot wait now. You shouldhave been ready for us. You have had forty-eight hours' notice. "

The old countrywoman was quite enraged. She began to vilify theAmericans most abominably. Ruth suddenly heard her say that theAbelards had been rooted here for generations. She refused to go forall the soldiers in the world!

Then she shrieked again as she saw the men bringing out her best bed. Major Marchand took a hand in the matter. 

"_Tante_, " he said quietly, "I am sorry for you. But these men are inthe right. The high authorities have said you must go. All yourneighbors are going. It is for _la patrie_. These are bitter timesand we must all make sacrifices. Come, now, you must depart. "

Ruth wondered at his quiet, yet forceful, manner. The corporal stoodback, thankful to have the disagreeable duty taken out of his hands. And the American girl wondered, too, at the respect Monsieur Lafranehad shown this French officer. Had he saluted the uniform, or wasMajor Marchand a very important personage? Her brain was in a whirl ofdoubt. 

CHAPTER XIV

MORE SACRIFICES THAN ONE

Monsieur Lafrane had stepped out of the automobile, although the wagonhad now been backed so that the car could have easily passed. Itsengine was still throbbing. 

Ruth Fielding was giving her full attention to the little scene at thehencoop. 

The tall, handsome major in his beautiful uniform made littleimpression upon the old woman. She backed away from him, pressingcloser to the lathe coop. 

"No, no! I will not come. My pullets--they will starve, " shereiterated endlessly. 

"But the Germans may be coming, " the major said patiently. "They willkill your pullets and eat them. "

"They did not do so before when they came, " she shrieked. "I do notbelieve they are coming. These wicked Americans want my pullets. _That_ is what it is! I will not!"

"Tante----" the major interposed gently. 

"I will not, I tell you!" she interrupted. 

She had backed up against the gate of the coop and had been fiddlingbehind her at its fastenings. Now, quick as a wink, she snatched thegate open and, with wonderful celerity for one of her age, plunged intothe hencoop and slammed to the door. 

There was a tumultuous flapping and cackling of the bewildered poultry, and the air inside the coop was immediately filled with dust andfeathers. Then the chaos subsided and the old woman looked outdefiantly at the major and at the half-amused, half-pitying soldierboys. 

The major's shrug was characteristic. He turned to look at thespectators, and Ruth saw that his eyes were moist. His pity for theunfortunate old woman and his kindness to her had its effect upon theAmerican girl. She wondered what manner of man, after all, thisFrenchman could be. 

Major Marchand said something in a low voice to the American corporal. The latter gave an order to his men. They surrounded the coop, andsuddenly, at the word, the corners were torn apart and the walls of theenclosure thrown down. 

Aunt Abelard shrieked--and so did the pullets. Many of the latter werecaught on the wing by the soldiers. The major put his arm about theold woman's shoulders. She was shrieking insanely, but he led her intothe house and there remained while most of the pullets were decapitatedswiftly and thrown aside, to be later carried to the field kitchens. 

But when the tearful old woman was brought out with the last of herpossessions and bundled into the rear of the now loaded wagon, theAmerican corporal came with a pair of the nicest pullets, their legstied together, and placed them in the old woman's lap along with thebird-cage one of the boys lifted up to her. 

Ruth, watching closely, saw Major Marchand draw the corporal aside andplace a couple of twenty-franc notes in his hand, nodding toward theold woman. It was to recompense her for the pullets, over whoseuntimely fate she was still moaning. 

The mystery of the major--or his character and what and who he reallywas--disturbed Ruth. She was excited. Should she tell MonsieurLafrane of her suspicion that this officer of the French army was theman whom she thought was Nicko's double?

For it was Major Henri Marchand Ruth believed she had seen enterNicko's garden and talk with him the evening before she left the fieldhospital to return to Clair. 

The major walked quietly away without even seeing Ruth. The chauffeurof their car, after a nod from Lafrane, started again. They passed thewagon, which was already trundling down the road. 

This cot was the last one at which Ruth saw anybody during that ride. For when they reached the hut of Nicko, the chocolate peddler, hisplace was likewise deserted. There were no neighboring houses. 

Lafrane got out at Nicko's cottage and searched the premises. His facewas grave when he came back to the car and told the chauffeur to hurryon to the hospital. 

Here Ruth was amazed to see many American soldiers at work. They werepiling sandbags about the various huts and over their roofs. Sheunderstood now why the people were being entirely cleared out of thissector. A great bombardment was expected. 

Ruth did not get out of the car. M. Lafrane ran in, and, through theopen gateway, she saw that he entered Hut H. He had gone to take alook at the occupant of Cot 24--the German officer. 

He was occupied within some time and when he appeared at the door ofthe hut Dr. Monteith was with him. The two stood talking for a whilebefore the secret agent returned to the gate. He got into the caragain with just a word to his chauffeur. 

"Mademoiselle, " said M. Lafrane, his face serious, indeed, "there aremany disappointments in life, as well as many sacrifices. We saw theold woman torn from her home--and from her pullets--just now. Thepattern of life is complex for us all. 

"I have come from Paris because you called me. " Ruth started andlooked at him closely. "I hoped that you might have something ofmoment to tell me. I shall always trust in your good sense. "

Ruth felt a sinking of the heart. 

"But, Monsieur! have I brought you here for nothing? I warned you itmight be a mare's nest. "

"_Non, non_!" he replied eagerly. "It is not your fault. I believeyou did hand me a thread of a clue that might--under more fortunatecircumstances--have led to the disclosure of something momentous. "

"But that in reality leads nowhere, Monsieur. Is that what you mean?"

"Mademoiselle, Fate tricks us! This Nicko is one of those thrust outof this sector in haste because of military reasons. And the GermanHauptman, who lay so long ill in that Hut H--well, Mademoiselle, he hasdied!"

Ruth was amazed, and for a time dumb. Should she bring Major HenriMarchand into the matter? The secret agent knew him and respected him. Ruth shrank from putting suspicion upon a possibly innocent person. 

And yet, his height, his manner of bowing, an indefinite air about him, had convinced Ruth that Nicko's double was Henri Marchand. Who elsecould it be? Could there be some person who so resembled the countess'younger son?

The thought roweled her mind. There was something in it to beconsidered. Who else could the mysterious man be?

And then, of a sudden, it flashed into Ruth's mind. The older son ofthe Countess Marchand was probably in appearance like his brother. Count Allaire Marchand! And where was Count Allaire now?

The story was that the young count had disappeared from Paris. He wasbelieved to be in the pay of the Germans. He, like Henri, had beeneducated in the Prussian military schools. No matter what the secretagents thought of the countess the loyalty of her sons was questionedby the peasants living about the chateau. 

A determination grew in Ruth Fielding's mind. She would go to thechateau and see if there was a picture of Count Allaire in his oldhome. She wished to determine if he looked like Major Henri Marchand. 

Meanwhile they rode swiftly over another road toward Clair. It was theroad beside which the little inn of Mother Gervaise was situated. 

Even that had been stripped of the widow's possessions and she wasgone. Like every other cot in all this sector, and back for ten milesfrom the battle front, the place was deserted. 

CHAPTER XV

BUBU

Ruth arrived at Clair again late in the evening and bade MonsieurLafrane good-night at the hospital entrance. On the following day thegirl of the Red Mill was permitted to go to the Chateau Marchand tocall. 

The secret agent had made it plain to Ruth that he held her in no faultfor the seeming fiasco of their journey to the field hospital and itsvicinity. The sudden death of the German officer in Hut H had been anact beyond human control. The disappearance of Nicko, the chocolatepeddler, was an act of the military authorities. 

On her own part Ruth was so confused regarding Major Henri Marchandthat she dared not mention his name to Monsieur Lafrane. Matters musttake their natural course--for a time, at least. 

Nevertheless, the American girl had a particular object in mind whenshe set forth briskly for the chateau on this afternoon. She was freeuntil bedtime, and during this contemplated call on the countess shewas determined to learn what the young Count Marchand looked like. 

On the edge of the town she spied an automobile approaching, and soonrecognized Henriette Dupay behind the windshield. Ruth stopped andwaved her hand. For a moment she thought the French girl wasdisinclined to stop at all. 

However, Ruth did not propose to give Henriette an opportunity to showany unfriendliness. She liked the girl and she understood that thewhole matter would be smoothed over in time. The reason for AuntAbelard's uprooting would become apparent to the French people, andtheir momentary feeling against the Americans would change. 

Henriette's face was quite flushed, however, when she stopped her carand returned briefly Ruth's greeting. 

"How is Aunt Abelard?" the latter asked. She told Henriette how shehad chanced to be present when the old woman was forced to leave herhomestead. 

"Ah, Mademoiselle, she is heart-broken!" declared Henriette, quiteeschewing English now. "Yes, heart-broken! She arrived at our housewith only two pullets. All the others were stolen by the Americans, "and the girl tossed her head angrily. 

"How about the forty francs she was given in lieu of the pullets?" Ruthasked, laughing. "Did she tell you about that?"

"But yes, " returned the French girl, rather taken aback. "But that wasgiven to her by Major Henri Marchand. He is so good!"

"True. But it is probable that she will make application to theAmerican officers and will be reimbursed a second time, " Ruth saiddryly. "As far as the pullets go, Henriette, I believe they are asmall loss to Aunt Abelard. "

"But her house! Her home!" ejaculated the French girl. 

"Of what use would that be to her had she remained and there shouldcome the bombardment that everybody says is coming? The German shellsmay tear her cottage to bits. "

Henriette shrugged her truly French shoulders. She evidently did notbelieve in the threatened bombardment. The guns of the front had beenquiet for two days. 

So she nodded to Ruth rather coldly and drove on into town. But Ruthwent away smiling. She was quite convinced that Henriette and herfamily would soon find out their mistake, and then they would be onfriendly terms with her again. The Latin nature is easily offended;but it is usually just. 

She saw nobody else in her walk to the chateau. There she had to waitfor some minutes at the gate for Dolge to answer her summons. 

"The Mademoiselle Fielding, " he said, bowing. "I am sure the countesswill approve my asking you in at once. She is fond of you, Mademoiselle. "

"I am glad, Dolge. I like to have people approve of me, " smiled Ruth. 

"Ah, yes, Mademoiselle. And the major--our Henri, our cadet! I amsure _he_ approves of you, Mademoiselle. "

The American girl flushed warmly, but managed to hide her disturbedcountenance from the old serving man. 

"He is not at home, is he, Dolge?" she quietly asked. 

"But, no, Mademoiselle. He went hurriedly yesterday. And would youbelieve it?"

"Believe what?"

"He went in one of those flying machines. _Oui_! _Oui_! Right upinto the sky, Mademoiselle, " went on the old man excitedly. "Yonder hemounted it beyond the gates. Ah, these times! It is so that soon onewill take an aeroplane as one takes a taxicab in the city. Is it not?"

Ruth listened and marveled. Major Marchand flying into the air fromthe chateau here on yesterday, when it was only yesterday that she methim, in his brave uniform, taking pity on a poor old woman who wasdriven out of the battle zone?

Suddenly her mind caught the point. The cogs slipped intojuxtaposition, as it were, and everything unrolled in its propersequence before her. 

It was on yesterday, as she went toward the Dupay farm, that she hadseen the rising aeroplane, from which had been dropped the paper bomb, wherein Ruth had found the message from Tom Cameron. It was from justbeyond the gates that Dolge said the machine rose that had borne awayMajor Marchand from the chateau. 

"The time, Dolge?" she demanded, stopping short in the walk and lookingat the surprised old servant. "The time that Major Henri flew away?"

"Oh, la! It was around one of the clock. Not later. "

That was the hour! Ruth was confident she was making no mistake now. It was either the major, or the pilot of the plane, that had droppedthe message to her. Two hours and a half later she had seen the majorat the cot of Aunt Abelard. He might easily have flown clear beyondthe German lines and back again by that time. And he might easily haveworn his major's uniform beneath his other garments. 

But Tom's message. That was the point that puzzled her. If dropped byMajor Marchand, how had he obtained it? What did the French officer, whose loyalty she doubted, have to do with Tom Cameron, whose loyaltyshe never for a moment doubted?

Ruth went on ahead of the wondering Dolge, vastly troubled. At everyturn she was meeting incidents or surprising discoveries that entangledher mind more and more deeply in a web of doubt and mystery. 

Where was Tom? Where did the major fly to? Where was he coming fromwhen she had seen him walking down that country road where Aunt Abelardwas having her unfortunate argument with the American soldiers?

The twists and turns of this mystery were enough to drive the girldistracted. And each incident which rose seemed to be dovetailed tosome other part of the mystery. 

Now she was suddenly sorry that she had not opened her heart entirelyto Monsieur Lafrane. She wished she had told him about Tom Cameron, and the fears she felt for him, and what was said about him by hiscomrades. He might at least have been able to advise her. 

She came to the chateau, therefore, in a most uncertain frame of mind. She was really in no mood for a social call. 

But there was the countess walking on the paved court before the maindoor of the chateau. It was a fine day, and she walked up and down, with a shawl about her shoulders, humming a cheerful little song. 

"Dear Mademoiselle Ruth!" she said, giving the girl her hands--soft andwhite, with a network of blue veins on their backs. "I am charmed. Ifit were not for you and our little Hetty I should scarcely feel I had asocial life at all. "

She spoke to Dolge as he hobbled away. 

"Tell them to make tea, " she said. 

"Yes, Madame la Countess, " he mumbled. 

She took the arm of the strong young girl and walked with her up anddown the portico. 

"Henri will be disappointed in not seeing you, Mademoiselle. He wentyesterday--called back to his duties. "

"And by aeroplane, they tell me, " answered the girl. 

"Think!" exclaimed the countess, shrugging her shoulders. "A fewmonths ago the thought of one of my boys mounting into the air wouldhave kept me awake all of the night. And I slept like a child!"

"We grow used to almost everything, do we not?" Ruth said. 

"War changes our outlook on life. Of course, I am not assured that hesafely landed yesterday----"

"I can assure you of that, Madame, myself, " said Ruth, without thinkingfar ahead when she said it. 

"_You_, Mademoiselle?"

"Yes. I saw him--on the ground. He was all right, " the girl added, dryly. 

"You saw him after he left here!" exclaimed the countess. "I do notunderstand. "

The girl saw she would have to go into particulars. But she did nottell the countess she had taken her trip to the field hospital with thesecret agent, M. Lafrane. 

"Dear me! That was so like him, " the countess observed when she hadheard the story of Aunt Abelard and her pullets. "His brother, too----"

"Is Count Allaire like his brother?" Ruth asked quietly. 

"Yes. In many ways. "

"I have never seen a picture of the count, have I?" the American girlpursued. 

"But, yes! You have but to look at Henri, " laughed the countess. "Alittle older. Perhaps a little more serious of expression. But thesame tall, slim, graceful figure, both. Pardon my pride in my sons, Mademoiselle. They are my all now. And they are both like me, Ibelieve, " she added softly. 

Ruth looked at her with luminous eyes. 

"Like you in every way, Madame? Given so entirely to the service oftheir country?"

"But yes! Too recklessly patriotic, I fear, " said the countess. Then, with a start, she exclaimed: "What is this? Do my eyes deceive me? Isit that wicked Bubu, running wild and free again?"

Ruth turned quickly. Crossing the wide lawns she saw the greyhoundpass swiftly. He was without his blanket, and it seemed to Ruth asthough the barrel of his body was much lighter of color than his chestand legs. Like a flash he was behind the chateau. 

"_Ma foi_!" gasped the countess. "What is---- Something----"

She started to follow the dog. As she still clung to Ruth's arm thegirl must perforce go with her. Through Ruth's mind was swirling amultitude of suspicious thoughts. 

CHAPTER XVI

THE HOLLOW TOOTH

Bubu had been running at large--and in the daytime. He had come fromthe north. Ruth believed the dog had crossed the lines and just nowhad arrived at the chateau after his long and perilous journey. 

Yet for a greyhound the fifteen or twenty kilometers between thechateau and the battle front was a mere nothing. At the rate the girlhad seen the "werwolf" flying over the fields, he must have coveredthat distance faster than an automobile. And, too, he would take aroute much more direct. 

The countess seemed to have forgotten Ruth's presence; but the girlcould not well draw her arm away and remain behind. Besides, she wasdesperately eager to know what would be done to Bubu, or with him, nowthat he had returned to the chateau. It was not unwillingly that thegirl accompanied the countess. 

It was some distance around the great building to the rear. They cameupon the excited Dolge and the big dog, the latter lapping water out ofa pan near the well house. 

"_Non_! _non_!" cried the countess warningly. "Not that, Dolge. Hemust not be allowed too much cold water after his so-exciting run. Itis not good for him. "

The gardener stooped to take the pan away, and the greyhound growled. "Oh, la, la!" mumbled Dolge. "Name of a mouse! Would you butcher me, you of bloody mind?"

Ruth noticed that the barrel of the greyhound was almost white, whichassisted in giving him that ghostly appearance at night. 

The countess left Ruth and hurried forward. She did not stoop, butwith her foot she straightway overturned the pan, sending the water outon the stones. 

The dog looked up at her, wide-mouthed and with tongue hanging. But hedid not offer to molest her. He only dropped his head again, and withhis pink tongue sought to lap up the moisture from the stones. 

"The collar, Dolge, " commanded Madame la Countess. 

The old man hobbled forward with the wide leather strap attached to thechain. The strap was decorated with big brass rivet heads. Shebuckled it around the neck of the panting dog. He lapped her hands. 

"Ah, naughty one, " she murmured, "would you run the fields like a wilddog? The blanket, Dolge. He may take cold. "

Already the gardener was bringing the covering. They fastened it aboutBubu, who finally shook himself and would have lain down had not thecountess said sharply:

"Nay, nay! All is not yet finished, Bubu. Open thy mouth--so!"

She forced open the big dog's jaws. Rather, at a touch he allowed herto hold his dripping jaws apart. 

"Dolge!" she demanded decisively, "can you see?"

"_Oui, oui, Madame_!" the old man chattered, shaking his headvigorously. "But not for me will he keep his jaws apart. I am not tobe made into sausage-meat, I hope?"

The countess laughed at him. "Hold his mouth open, then. He would notdesire to bite; but----"

Ruth, amazed, saw her white fingers fumble inside the dog's open maw. She pulled what seemed to be a white rubber cap from one of hisgrinders. Quickly and skilfully, with a fine knitting needle, thecountess ripped from this rubber casing what the girl thought lookedlike a twist of oiled paper. 

"All right, my good Dolge. You may let him go, " she said, hiding thetwist of paper in her palm. "Let him rest--poor fellow!"

She patted the greyhound with the sole of her slipper and the big dogyawned; then laid his head upon his paws. He was still panting, hissides heaving heavily. His legs and feet were bedaubed with mud. 

"He has come a long way, " the countess said coolly to Ruth. "Let us goin, Mademoiselle. It must be that our tea is ready. "

She seemed to consider Ruth quite worthy of her confidence. TheAmerican girl knew that she was on the verge of an important discovery. It could not be that Bubu carried messages to Germany to give aid andcomfort to the enemy! That suspicion was put to rest. 

Bubu was being used to bring news from French spies across the battlelines. Otherwise the countess would never have allowed Ruth todiscover this mystery of the "werwolf. "

And how shrewd was the method followed in the use of the obedient dog!A hollow tooth, which would be overlooked even if the enemy shot andexamined the animal. 

Ruth wanted to ask a hundred questions; but she did not open her lipsIt might be that the countess supposed she was already aware of the usemade of Bubu, and how he was used. The American girl had been broughtto the chateau by Monsieur Lafrane, the agent of the French secretservice bureau. And the countess knew, of course, his business. 

As soon as they were in the library, where the tea things were laid, the countess proceeded to smooth out the bit of paper and examine itunder a strong reading glass. 

"Ah!" she cried, in a moment, her smooth cheeks flushing and her eyesbrightening. "He is well! My dear boy!"

Her joy urged Ruth to question her, yet the girl hesitated. Her eyes, however, revealed to the countess her consuming curiosity. 

"Mademoiselle!" exclaimed the old lady, "do you not _know_?"

"I--I don't know what you mean, Madame, " stammered Ruth. 

"It is from the count--my Allaire!"

"The message is from Count Marchand?" cried the girl, in utteramazement. 

"But yes. He does not forget his old mother. When able, he alwayssends me word of cheer. Of course, " she added, looking at the Americangirl curiously now, "there is something else upon the paper. Hismessage to his mother is not a line. You understand, do you not?Monsieur Lafrane, of course----"

"Monsieur Lafrane has never told me a word, " Ruth hastened to say. "Ionly suspected before to-day that Bubu carried messages back and forthacross the lines. "

"Ah, but you are to be trusted, " the countess said cheerfully. "We dowhat the Anglais call--how is it?--'our little bit'? Bubu and I. He, too, is French!" and she said it proudly. 

"And for years, Mademoiselle, we have established this couriership ofBubu's. " She laughed. "Do you know what the farmers say of ourso-good dog?"

Ruth nodded. "I have heard the story of the werwolf. And, really, Madame, the look of him as he runs at night would frighten anybody. Heis ghostly. "

The countess nodded. "In that's his safety--and has been since beforethe war. For, know you, Mademoiselle, _all_ France was not asleepduring those pre-war years when the hateful Hun was preparing andpreparing. 

"My husband, Mademoiselle Fielding, was a loyal and a far-sighted man. He did not play politics, and seek to foment trouble for the Republicas so many of our old and noble families did. Now, thank heaven, theyare among our most faithful workers for la patrie. 

"But, see you, Count Marchand owned a small estate near Merz, which isjust over the border in Germany. Sometimes he would gothere--sometimes to drink the waters, for there are springs of note, perhaps for the hunting, for there is a great forest near. He wouldalways take Bubu with him. 

"And so we taught Bubu to run back and forth between here and there. He carried messages around his neck in those times. Quite simple andplain messages, had he been caught at the frontier and examined. 

"It was our Henri who resorted to the hollow tooth, and that since thewar began. Bubu had one big tooth with a spot on it. Henri knew anAmerican dentist in Paris. Ah, what cannot these Americans do!" andthe countess laughed. 

"We took Bubu to Paris and had the decayed spot drilled out. The toothis sound at the root. The dentist made the hole as large as possibleand then we moulded the rubber caps to close it. You see how themessages are sent?"

"Remarkable, Madame!" murmured Ruth. "But?"

"Ah? Who sends the messages from beyond the German lines? Now it isCount Allaire himself, " she hastened to explain. "In disguise he wentthrough the lines some weeks ago. The agent who was there came undersuspicion of the Germans. "

"And he lives at the castle over there in Germany--openly?" gasped Ruth. 

"Nay, nay! It is no castle at best, " and the countess laughed. "It isby no means as great a place as this. It was a modest little house andis now the comfortable quarters of a fat old Prussian general. 

"But upon the estate is the cottage of a loyal Frenchman. He wasgardener there in my husband's time. But as he bears a German name andhis wife is German, they have never suspected him. 

"It is with this old gardener, Brodart, my son communicates; and it isto him our good Bubu goes. "

"But how can the dog get across No Man's Land?" cried Ruth. "I do notunderstand that at all!"

"There are bare and bleak places between the lines which we knownothing about, " the countess said, shaking her head. "Not in allplaces are the two armies facing each other at a distance of a fewhundred yards. There is the lake and swampland of Savoie, forinstance. A great space divides the trenches there--all of two miles. Patrols are continually passing to and fro by night there, and fromboth sides. A man can easily get through, let alone a dog. 

"Hush!" she added, lowering her voice. "Of course, I fear nobody herenow. Poor Bessie--who was faithful to me for so many years--wascontaminated by German gold. But she was half German at best. It waswell the poor soul escaped as she did. 

"However, my remaining servants I can trust. Yet there are things onedoes not speak of, Mademoiselle. You understand? There are many goodmen and true who take their lives in their hands and go back and forthbetween the enemy's lines and our own. They offer their lives upon thealtar of their country's need. "

CHAPTER XVII

THE WORST IS TOLD

"But, Major Marchand? What of him?" Ruth asked, deeply interested inwhat the countess had said. 

"He, too, is in the secret work, " responded the countess, smilingfaintly. "My older son claimed the right of undertaking the moreperilous task. Likewise he was the more familiar with the vicinity ofour summer estate at Merz, having been there often with his father. "

"But Major Henri goes back and forth, along the front, both by flyingmachine and in other ways?" Ruth asked. "I am sure I have seen him----"

She wanted to tell the countess how she had misjudged the major. Butshe hesitated. There was the matter of Nicko, the chocolate peddler, and the man who looked like him!

Could that disguised man have been the major? And if so, what was hisinterest in the German officer who had so suddenly died in the fieldhospital--the occupant of Cot 24, Hut H?

The girl's mind was still in a whirl. Had she called Lafrane to thefront for nothing at all? Had she really been stirring up a mare'snest? She listened, however, to the countess' further observations:

"But yes, Mademoiselle, we all do what we may. My sons are hard atwork for la patrie--and brave Bubu!" and she laughed. "Of course yourAmerican soldiers cannot be expected to take over the scouting on thisfront, not altogether, for they do not know the country as do weFrench. Yet some of your young men, Henri tells me, show marvelousadaptability in the work. Is it the Red Indian blood in them, thinkyou, that makes them so proficient in scouting?" she added innocently. 

But Ruth did not laugh. Indeed, she felt very serious, for she wasthinking of Tom Cameron. Major Henri Marchand must know aboutTom--where he was and what he was doing. That is, if it had been themajor who had dropped the message from Tom at her feet the day before. 

She could not discuss this matter with the countess. And yet the girlwas so troubled regarding Tom's affairs that she felt equal to almostany reckless attempt to gain information about him. 

Before the girl could decide to speak, however, there was a step uponthe bare floor of the great entrance hall of the chateau. The ringingstep came nearer, and the countess raised her head. 

"Henri! Come in! Come in!" she cried as the door opened. 

Major Marchand marched into the room breezily, still in the dressuniform Ruth had seen at Aunt Abelard's cottage. 

"Ah, Mademoiselle!" he cried, having kissed his mother's hand andsuddenly beholding the girl who had shyly retired to the other side ofthe hearth. "May I greet you?"

He came around the tea table and took her hand. She did not withdrawit abruptly this time as he pressed his lips respectfully to herfingers. But she did blush under his admiring glance. 

"See, Henri!" his mother cried. "It is the good Bubu who has broughtit. In code. Can you read it?"

She thrust the whisp of paper, taken from the dog's hollow tooth, underhis eyes before pouring his cup of tea. Henri, begging Ruth'sindulgence with a look, sat down before the table, his sword clanking. He smoothed the paper out upon the board and drew the reading glass tohim. 

"Wait!" Countess Marchand said. "You have had no luncheon! You arehungry, my dear boy?"

She hurried out of the room intent upon her son's comfort. Ruthwatched the countenance of the major as he read the code message. Shesaw his expression become both serious and troubled. 

Suddenly he turned in his chair and looked at the American girl. Hisgaze seemed significant, and Ruth began to tremble. 

"Mademoiselle?"

"Yes, Monsieur?"

"You have questions to ask me, _hein_?"

"It is true, Major Marchand, " she murmured, struggling forself-control. "I am eaten up by curiosity. "

"Is it only curiosity that troubles you, Mademoiselle?" he said dryly. 

"No! No! I am seriously alarmed. I am anxious--for a friend. " Hervoice was tense. 

"You received a certain message?" he asked. 

"Oh, yes, Major Marchand! And that excites me, " she replied, morecalmly now. "Was it really you who dropped the paper bomb at my feet?"

His eyes danced for a moment. "That was entirely--what you call--bychance. Mademoiselle, I spied you, and having the written message ofyour friend I inserted it in the bomb, twisted the neck of it, and letit fall at your feet. You are, of course, acquainted with LieutenantCameron?"

"He is the twin brother of my dearest friend, " Ruth replied. "Helen isin Paris--helping make soup for French orphans, " and she smiled. "Something that I have heard has worried me vastly about Tom. " Hersmile disappeared and her gaze at the French major was pleading. 

His own countenance again fell into serious lines, and he tapped thetable thoughtfully. Ruth clasped her hands as she waited. She feltthat something untoward was about to be made known to her. There wassomething about Tom which would shock her. 

"I am sorry, Mademoiselle, " murmured the major. "Here is somethingsaid about Lieutenant Cameron. "

"In that message Bubu brought?" she asked slowly. 

"Yes. It is from my brother. Did you know that Lieutenant Cameron wasworking with the Count Marchand in Germany?"

"Oh, I did not know it until--until lately! There are such storiesafloat!"

"Ah!" He smiled and nodded understandingly. "Do not let those idletales annoy you. Lieutenant Cameron is a very able and a veryhonorable young man. He volunteered for the dangerous service. Ofcourse, his comrades could not be told the truth. And it chanced hewas observed speaking to one of our agents who came from the Germanside. 

"At once it was decided that he would do well in the area of Merz, where Count Marchand is in command. You understand? LieutenantCameron's comrades were given the wrong impression. Otherwise, knowledge that he was a scout might have been easily discovered byGerman spies in this sector. Your friend speaks perfect German. "

"Oh, yes, " Ruth said. "He began to prattle to Babette, hisGerman-Swiss nurse when he was a child. "

"So he has been of much help to us near Merz. But my brother informsme now that a serious difficulty has arisen. "

"What is it, Major Marchand?" asked the girl, with tightening lips. 

"Lieutenant Cameron has been arrested. He is suspected by the Germansat Merz. He was furnished the papers and uniform of a Bavariancaptain. The authorities are making an investigation. It may--I amdesolated to say it, Mademoiselle!--become fatal for LieutenantCameron. "

CHAPTER XVIII

BEARING THE BURDEN

It was dusk before Ruth Fielding arrived at the Clair Hospital afterher exciting call at the Chateau Marchand. She had refused to allowMajor Marchand to accompany her to the village, for she learned he mustbe off for the front lines later in the evening, and would in any casehave but a few hours with his mother. 

Ruth had conceived a plan. 

She had been in serious conference with Major Marchand and thecountess. Neither, of course, knew the particulars of Tom Cameron'sarrest at Merz, beyond the German lines. However, they sympathizedwith her and applauded her desire to help Tom. 

For there was a chance for Ruth to aid the young American lieutenant. The major admitted it, and the countess admired Ruth's courage insuggesting it. 

The brief announcement of Tom's arrest sent by Count Marchand by Bubu, the greyhound, together with facts that the major knew, aided Ruth ingaining a pretty clear understanding of Tom Cameron's situation. 

He had volunteered for this dangerous service and had been assigned towork with the French secret agents on both sides of the battle line. After his own comrades' suspicion was fixed on him, it was decided, Tomagreeing, that he would be able to do better work in Germany. MajorMarchand had himself guided the American lieutenant to Merz, andintroduced him to Count Allaire Marchand. 

"And we both consider him, Mademoiselle, " said the major generously, "amost promising recruit. We arranged for him to enter Merz in the guiseof a wealthy Bavarian Hauptman on leave. Merz, you must understand, was quite a famous health resort before the war. Many foreigners, aswell as Germans, went there to drink the waters. That is why we had asummer estate on the outskirts of Merz. "

In addition, the major told of Tom's early successes in gettingacquainted with the chief men of the town--particularly with the goutyold Prussian general, who was the military governor of the district. Information which Tom had gained, the major whispered, had spurred theAmerican authorities in this sector to remove the civilian populationfor several miles back of the trenches. 

There was soon to be a "surprise" attack upon the Americans, and thehuge guns being brought up for the bombardment before the infantryadvance might utterly wreck the open country immediately back of theAmerican trenches. 

Tom Cameron, posing as Captain Von Brenner, was apparently awaiting atMerz's best hotel the appearance of his sister, who, he declared, wouldjoin him before the conclusion of his furlough. At first the oldgeneral and the other authorities had accepted the American at his facevalue. 

Somehow, suspicion must have been aroused within the last twenty-fourhours. The message that had come by Bubu stated that Tom was underarrest as a suspicious person, but that he was detained only in thegeneral's quarters. 

It was something that might blow over. Finesse was required. Ruth hadsuggested a plan, which, although applauded by the major and hismother, they could not advise her to carry out. For, if it failed, herown peril would be as great as Tom Cameron's. In fact, the result offailure would be that both of them would be shot!

But the American girl was inspired for the task. So, urged by thecountess, her son had agreed to assist Ruth in an attempt which hecould but approve. Had Count Allaire Marchand, or any of his Frenchoperatives in and near Merz, attempted to assist in Tom Cameron'sescape out of Germany, they would merely lay themselves open tosuspicion, and possibly to arrest. 

Ruth saw a code message written to the count, who was hiding on whathad been the Marchand estate before the war, and then saw Bubu calledinto the library and the twist of oiled paper secreted in the dog'smouth. When the greyhound was released for his return journey to Merz, Ruth, likewise, left the chateau. A short time later, as has beensaid, she arrived safely at the hospital in the village. 

Just as she was about to enter the gateway, a heavy touring car rumbledup the road from the south. It stopped before the hospital gate. There was a uniformed officer on the seat beside the chauffeur; but theonly occupants of the tonneau were two women. 

"We wish to see Miss Fielding, " said one of these women, rising andspeaking hastily to the sentinel who had presented arms before thegateway. 

"I shall have to call somebody from inside, Mademoiselle, " said the oldterritorial who was on guard duty. "There is such a name here, Ibelieve. "

"Never mind calling anybody!" Ruth suddenly exclaimed, springingforward. "Miss Fielding is here to answer the call. Will you girlstell me what under the sun you have come here for? I thought you wouldknow enough to remain safely in Paris!"

"Ruthie!" shrieked Helen Cameron, fairly throwing herself from theautomobile into Ruth's arms. "It is she! It is her! It is herowniest, owniest self!"

"Hold on, " said the second occupant of the automobile tonneau, alighting more heavily. "Leave a bit for me to fall on, Nell. "

"Don't you dare, Heavy Stone!" cried Ruth. "If you fell upon myfrailness----"

"Hush! Tell it not in Gath, " cried Jennie sepulchrally. "I have lostflesh--positively. "

"Yes, " agreed Helen, quite dramatically. "She barked her knuckle. Every little bit counts with Heavy, you know. "

Ruth welcomed the plump girl quite as warmly as she did her ownparticular chum. Immediately the military automobile rolled away. Thevisitors both carried handbags. 

"How did you come to get here--and where under the sun will you stay?"Ruth demanded again. 

"Now, never mind worrying about us, Martha, " Jennie Stone returned. "We will get along very well. Isn't there a hotel?"

"A hotel? In Clair?" gasped the girl of the Red Mill. "I--should--say--not!"

"Very well, dear; we'll put up wherever you say, " said Helen airily. "We know you are always a favorite wherever you go, and you must haveloads of friends here by this time. "

"The unqualified nerve of you!" gasped Ruth. "But come in. I'll speakto _Madame la Directrice_ and see what can be done. But how did youever get permission to come here?" she repeated. 

"It is our furlough. We have earned it. Haven't _you_ earned afurlough yet?" Helen demanded, making big eyes at her chum. 

"It never crossed my mind to ask for one, " admitted the girl of the RedMill. "But merely your having a furlough would not have won you avisit so near the front. "

"Really?" asked Jennie. "Do you mean to say this _is_ near the battleline?"

"You'd think so at times, " returned Ruth. "But answer me! How did youget your passports viséed for such a distance from Paris?"

"Forget not, " said Jennie, "that Mr. Cameron was over here onGovernment business. Helen can do almost anything she likes with theseFrench officials. "

"Humph!" was all that came from Ruth in answer to this. 

"You don't seem glad to see us at all, Ruthie Fielding!" cried Helen, as they crossed the courtyard and mounted the steps to the hospital. 

But Ruth was frankly considering how she could make the best use of hertwo college chums, now that they were here. In less than twenty-fourhours she expected to leave Clair for an extended absence. She hadbeen troubled regarding her duty to the Red Cross. 

Circumstances had played into her hands. She could trust Helen andJennie to do her work here at the Clair Hospital while she was absent. 

She found the matron and took her aside before introducing her to thenewcomers. She did not explain her reason for wishing to absentherself from duty for some days, nor did the tactful Frenchwoman askafter she was told that the Countess Marchand approved. But she toldthe matron about her two girl friends who had arrived so unexpectedly. 

"They are good girls, and capable girls, and I can show them verybriefly my ordinary duties, Madame. "

"It is well, Mademoiselle Fielding, " the woman said with cordiality. "Let me now greet your friends. "

So Helen and Jennie were introduced, and the matron said she would findtwo rooms in the nurses' quarters for the visitors. But first thethree girls must go to Ruth's little cell and have tea while theytalked. 

"First of all, " Helen began. "How is Tommy-boy?"

"He is perfectly well as far as I know, " Ruth said gravely. 

"Goodness! You are not _mad_ with him?"

"Of course not. How silly, " her chum returned. 

"Well, but don't you see him every day or two?"

Ruth Fielding stared at her chum, not alone with gravity, but withscorn. 

"I think it is well you have come up here to visit, " she said. "Don'tyou know yet that we are in this war, Helen Cameron?"

"I don't know what you mean, " returned Helen, pouting. "If we were notat war with Germany, do you think I would be away from Ardmore Collegeat this time of year?"

"Tom is on active service, " Ruth said quietly. "I am rather busilyengaged myself. I have seen him just twice since I have been at Clair. But I happened to learn to-day that--beyond peradventure--he is inhealth. "

"That's good enough!" exclaimed Helen. "And I suppose you can get wordto him so he'll know Jennie and I are here?"

"I will try to get word to him, " agreed Ruth soberly. 

"He can ask off and come to see us, can't he?"

"Not being in military charge of this sector, I cannot tell you, " thegirl of the Red Mill said dryly. "But if you remain here long enough Ihope Tom will come to see you, my dear. "

She could tell them no more. Indeed, to-night she did not even wishthe girls to know that she proposed absenting herself from the hospitalfor a time and expected Helen and Jennie to do her work. 

She had a burden to shoulder that she could not share with her friends. She sent them to their beds a little later to sleep confidently andhappily after their long journey from Paris. 

As for Ruth Fielding, she scarcely closed her eyes that night. 

CHAPTER XIX

ADVENTURE

In the dawn of the next morning Ruth arose and rearranged all her stockof supplies and corrected the schedule of goods on hand. Despite herrecent activities she had kept her accounts up to date and every recordwas properly audited. 

Before Helen Cameron and Jennie Stone even knew how Ruth proposedmaking use of them, the girl of the Red Mill had explained her planfully to the matron. That the Americaine Mademoiselle was so friendlywith the grand folk at the chateau rather awed the Frenchwoman. Shecould find no fault with anything Ruth did. 

But there was a great outcry when, at breakfast, Ruth explained toHelen and Jennie that she was called away from the hospital on privateand important business, and for several days. 

"She's running away to be married!" gasped Jennie Stone. "Treason!"

"Your romantic imagination is ever on tap, isn't it, Heavy?" respondedRuth with scorn. 

"That's all right, " returned the plump girl sharply. "You look out foryour brother Tom, Helen Cameron. "

"But it may be one of these French officers, " Helen said, with moremildness. "Some of them are awfully nice. "

"Don't be ridiculous, girls!" Ruth observed. 

"Really it isn't at all nice of you, my dear, " her chum said. 

"I'm not doing this because it is nice, " flared Ruth, whose nerves werea little raw by now. "It is something I _have_ to do. "

"What, then?" demanded Jennie. 

"I can't tell you! It is not my secret! If it were, don't you supposeI would take you both into my confidence?"

"I don't know about that, " grumbled Jennie Stone. 

"I had made arrangements to do this before you came, " the girl of theRed Mill said, rather provoked. "You must take me at my word. Icannot do differently. I never told you girls a falsehood in my life. "

"Goodness, Ruthie!" exclaimed Helen, with sudden good sense. "Say nomore about it. Of course we know you would not desert us if it couldbe helped. If Tom would only come while you are gone----"

"I may be able to communicate with him, " Ruth said, turning her headquickly so that her chum should not see her expression of countenance. "And there is something you girls can do for me while I am gone. "

"I warrant!" groaned Jennie. "No rest for the wicked. Don't try tothink up anything in the line of cooking for _me_, Ruthie Fielding, forI won't do it! I have come here to get away from cooking. "

"Will you fast then, while you remain at Clair?" asked Ruth ratherwickedly. 

"Ow-wow!" shrieked the plump girl. "How you can twist a fellow'smeaning around! No! I merely will _not_ cook!"

"But she still hopes to eat, " said Helen. "What is it you want of yourpoor slaves, Lady Ruth?"

"Do my work here while I'm gone. Look out for the supplies. I canbreak you both in this morning. I do not know just when I shall becalled for----"

"By whom, pray?" put in the saucy Jennie drawlingly. 

Ruth ignored the question. "You will not find this work difficult. And, as Jennie suggests, it will be a change. "

"Good-_night_!" groaned Jennie. 

"Don't lose heart, sister, " said Helen cheerfully. "I understand thatRuth often goes into the wards and writes letters for the poor poilus, and feeds them canned peaches and soft puddings. Isn't that what youdo, Ruthie?"

"Better not let me do that, " grumbled Jennie. "I might be tempted toeat the goodies myself. I'll write the letters. "

"Heaven help the home folks of the poor poilus, my dear, " Helenresponded. "Nobody--not even Madame Picolet--could ever read yourwritten French. "

"Well! I do declare!" exclaimed the fleshy girl, tossing her head. "Isuppose the duty will devolve upon me to eat all the _blessés'_ fancyfood for them. Dear me, Ruthie Fielding! Don't stay long. For if youdo I shall utterly ruin my figure. "

It was very kind of the girls to agree to Ruth's suggestion, and sheappreciated it. But she could not tell them anything about what shewas to do while she was absent from the hospital. 

Indeed, she barely knew herself what she would do--in detail, that is. She had put herself in the hands of Major Marchand and must wait tohear from him. 

She dared not breathe to Helen a word of Tom's trouble. Nobody mustknow that she, Ruth, hoped in some way to aid him to escape from beyondthe German lines. 

It seemed almost impossible for a girl--any girl--to pass from one sideof the battle front to the other. From the sea on the Belgian coast tothe Alps the trenches ran in continuous lines. Division after divisionof Belgians, British and their colonial troops, French, and Americansheld the trenches on this side, facing a great horde of Germans. 

In places the huge guns stood so close together they all but touched. Beyond these were the front trenches, in which the sharpshooters andthe machine-gun men watched the enemy. And beyond again were thelistening posts and the wire entanglements. 

How could a girl ever get through the jungle of barbed wire? And inplaces the Huns had strung live wires, carrying voltages strong enoughto kill a man, just as they did along the borderland of Holland. 

When Ruth thought of these things she lost hope. But she tried not tothink at all. Major Marchand had bade her be of good hope. 

She kept her mind occupied in showing the two girls their duties and inintroducing them to such of the nurses and other workers as Ruthherself knew well. 

It was rather late in the afternoon, and she had heard no word of themajor, when Ruth and her two friends came out of a lower ward to themain entrance of the hospital just as an ambulance rolled in. Two ofthe _brancardiers_ came out of the hospital and drew forth onestretcher on which a convalescent patient lay. 

"Oh, the poor man!" murmured Helen. "What do they do with him now?"

"He has come in from a field hospital, " began Ruth. And then she sawthe face of the ambulance driver. "Oh, Charlie Bragg!" she called. 

"What did I tell you?" said Jennie solemnly. "She knows 'em all. Theygrow on bushes around here, I warrant. "

"They don't grow 'em like Charlie on bushes, I assure you, " declaredRuth, laughing, and she ran down the steps to speak to the ambulancedriver, for she saw that he wanted to say something to her. 

"Miss Ruth, I was told to whisper something in your private ear, andwhen I have said it, you are to do it, instantly. "

"Goodness! What do you mean, Charlie Bragg?" she gasped. 

"Listen. Those two _brancardiers_ are coming for the second man. Whenthey start up the steps with him, you pop into the back of theambulance. "

"Why, Charlie!" she murmured in utter amazement. 

"Are you going to do as you are told?" he demanded with much apparentfierceness. 

"But the third man? You have another wounded man inside. "

The stretcher-bearers slid the second convalescent out of the ambulance. 

"Now!" whispered Charlie. "Do as you are told. "

Half understanding, yet still much puzzled, the girl went around to therear of the ambulance. It was half dark within, but she saw the manlying on the third stretcher, the one overhead, put out a hand andbeckon her. She could see nothing of his face, his head was so muchbandaged. One arm seemed strapped to his side, too. 

The engine of the car began to purr. Charlie clashed the clutch. Ruthjumped upon the step, and then crept into the covered vehicle. The carleaped ahead. 

She heard Jennie Stone exclaim in utter amazement:

"Well, what _do_ you think of that? What did I tell you, Helen? Sheis actually running away. "

In half a minute the ambulance was out of the courtyard and the dust ofthe village street wan rising behind it, as Charlie Bragg swung the carinto high gear. 

This was adventure, indeed!

CHAPTER XX

ON THE RAW EDGE OF NO MAN'S LAND

"Sit down, Mademoiselle, " said a low voice. "There is a cushionyonder. Make no sound--at least, not until we are out of the village. "

Ruth could only gasp. There was light enough under the ambulance rooffor her to see the speaker creep down from the swinging stretcher. Hemoved very carefully, but his bandages were evidently camouflage. 

The jouncing of the automobile made her uncomfortable. Charlie Braggwas driving at his usual reckless pace. Ruth did not even laugh overthe surprise of Helen and Jennie at her departure. She was too deeplyinterested in the actions of the man with her in the ambulance. 

He was unwinding the bandage that strapped his left arm to his sideand, with gravity, removed the splints that had evidently been put inplace by a professional hand. 

His arm, however, was as well and strong as Ruth's own. She saw thathe wore a familiar, patched, blue smock, baggy trousers, and woodenshoes. He began to look like the mysterious Nicko, the chocolatevender!

Then he unwrapped his head. There were yards of the gauze and padding. To believe his first appearance once might have thought that his jawhad been shot away. 

But at last Ruth saw his unmarred face so clearly that she could nolonger doubt his identity. It was Major Marchand. And yet, it wasNicko!

"Pardon, Mademoiselle, " said the officer softly. "It is necessary thatI go disguised at times. My poor friend, Nicko (perhaps you saw him atthe field hospital to which you were assigned for a week?), allows meto dress like him and did, indeed, allow me to live in his house attimes. Now he has been removed from his home and fields with the rest. "

"I think I understand, Major Marchand, " she answered. 

"I was much interested in a wounded Uhlan captain who was in thathospital. He began by trying to bribe our poor Nicko, thinking thechocolate peddler too weak-minded to be patriotic. He was mistaken, "and the major nodded. "Had the Uhlan not died of his wounds I believeI should have got something of moment from him. "

Ruth shook her head and asked: "Where are you taking me? Oh! Ithought Charlie would have us over then!"

The major smiled. "Our friend, Monsieur Bragg, is faithful and wise;but he drives like Jehu. I have engaged him to transport us a part ofthe way. "

"Part of the way to where?"

"To where we are going, " Major Marchand replied dryly enough. 

"But I was not exactly prepared, Major Marchand, " Ruth said. "I am notproperly clothed. I wear slippers and I have no hat. "

"Trouble not regarding that, " he told her. "It would be impossible foryou to take a wardrobe across No Man's Land. An outfit of properclothing must be secured for you upon the other side. "

"Will that be possible?"

"German women still dress in the mode, Mademoiselle. And the garmentsyou wear at Merz must bear the labels of Berlin tradesmen. "

"Goodness! I never thought of that, " admitted Ruth. 

"Somebody must think of all the details, " he said gently. "My brotherwill attend to it all. "

"Count Allaire?"

"Yes. He is a master of detail, " and the major smiled and nodded. 

"You speak as though I were sure of getting across, " Ruth whispered. 

"Have no doubt, Mademoiselle. We _must_ get over. Doubt never won ina contest yet. Have courage. "

After another minute of jouncing about in the furiously drivenambulance, the girl continued her questioning:

"What am I to do first?"

"Do as you are told, " he smiled. 

"We are going toward the front now? Yes? And at what part of the linecan we cross?"

"There is but one place where it is possible for you to get over. Itis at the Savoie Swamps. It is a wild and deserted place--has alwaysbeen. There is a little lake much sought by fishermen in the summersbefore the war started. The shores immediately about it are alwaysmarshy. At this season they are inundated. "

"Then, how am I to get through?"

"That you will be able to understand better when you are there, " saidthe officer noncommittally. 

"Is it open country?" she asked wonderingly. "Shall we be quiteexposed?"

"Not at night, " he returned grimly. "And it is partly forest covered, that morass. The guns have shattered the forest in places. But mostof the huge shells which drop into the swamp never explode. "

"Oh!"

"Yes. They are very, very dangerous--those duds. But they will not beour only peril in crossing. Have you a brave heart, Mademoiselle?"

"I am going to help Tom Cameron escape, " she said firmly. 

He bowed and said nothing more until she again spoke. 

"I can see that it may be possible for a man to get through thatswamp--or across the lake by boat. But how about me? My dress----"

"I am afraid we shall have to disguise you, Mademoiselle, " MajorMarchand said with one of his flashing smiles. "But do not takethought of it. All will be arranged. "

This was comforting, but only to a slight degree. Ruth Fielding wasnot a person given to allowing things to take their course. Sheusually planned far ahead and "made things come her way. "

She stared out rather stonily upon the landscape. Charlie was stilldriving at his maddest gait. They passed few houses, and those theydid pass were deserted. 

"Your Americans, Mademoiselle, " said the major, "have prepared for theexpected German advance with a completeness--yes! They have myadmiration. "

"But will the attack come?" she asked doubtfully. 

"Surely. As I told you, Mademoiselle, we can thank your young friend, Lieutenant Cameron, for the warning. Through his advantage withGeneral Stultz he gained such information. The High Command of theGerman Armies has planned this attack upon the first American-heldtrenches. "

"Oh, what will they do to poor Tom if they are sure he is a spy?"murmured Ruth, for the moment breaking down. 

"We will get there first, " was the assurance given her. 

"But his sister--Helen---- Think of it, Major Marchand! She has justarrived at Clair and awaits him there at the hospital. I have notdared tell her that Tom has been caught by the Germans. "

"Fear not, " he urged her. "There is yet hope. "

But every now and then Ruth felt her courage melting. It seemed soimpossible for her to do this great thing she had set out to do. Shefelt her limitations. 

Yet it was not personal fear that troubled her. She would have pressedforward, even had she been obliged to essay the crossing of No Man'sLand alone. 

At last the jouncing ambulance came to a rocking halt. 

"As far as I can take you folks in this old fliver, I guess, " drawledCharlie Bragg. "An unhealthy looking place for a picnic. "

He twisted around in his seat to look at Ruth. She smiled wanly athim, while the Major got down quickly and offered her his hand. 

"Is it all right, Ruth?" Charlie whispered. "I don't _know_ thisFrench chap. "

"Don't fear for me, Charlie dear, " she returned. "He is Major HenriMarchand. I fancy he is high in the French Army. And I know hismother--a very lovely lady. "

"Oh, all right, " responded the boy shortly. "One of the family, as youmight say? Take care of yourself. Haven't heard from Cameron, haveyou?"

"That is what I am here for, " whispered Ruth. "I hope I shall hear ofhim soon. "

"Well, best o' luck!" said Charlie Bragg, as Ruth followed the majorout of the rear of the ambulance. 

The evening was falling. They stood at the mouth of a wide gully upwhich the car could not have traveled. The latter turned in a swirl ofdust and pounded back toward the rear. When it was out of sight andthe noise of it had died away, there did not seem to be any other soundabout them. 

"Where are we?" asked Ruth. 

"Let us see, " returned Major Marchand cheerfully. "I think we shallfind somebody up this way. "

They walked up the gully some hundreds of yards until they finally cameout upon a narrow plain at the top. On this mesa was a ruined dwellingof two stories and some shattered farm buildings. 

"Halt!" was the sudden command. 

A man in khaki appeared from a clump of trees near the house, advancinghis rifle. 

"Friends, " said the major quietly. 

"Advance one friend with the countersign. "

Major Marchand stepped ahead of Ruth and whispered something to thesentinel. 

"Guess it's all right, Boss, " said the sentinel, who evidently had noFrench. "But you can't proceed in this direction. "

"Why not, _mon ami_?"

"New orders. Something doing up front. Wait till my relief comes onin half an hour. Top-sergeant will tell you. "

"But we _must_ go forward, " urged the major, rather vexed. 

"Don't worry, " advised the American. "General orders takes the 'must'out of mustard even, and don't you forget it. If you were a soldier, you'd learn _that_, " and he chuckled. "Come on over to the dyke andsit down--you and the lady, " and he favored Ruth with an admiringglance. 

The American girl did not speak, and it was evident that the sentinelthought her French like her companion. The three strolled along to thegrassy bank behind the trees and directly before the half-ruined house. 

Shell fire had destroyed one end of it. But the other end wall wascomplete. On the second floor was a window. The lower sash wasremoved, but in the upper sash there were several small, unbroken panesof glass. 

There was the smell of smoke in the air, and the two newcomers spied alittle handful of fire blazing on a rock under the dyke. Here thesentinel had made his little camp, and it was evident that he hadboiled coffee and toasted meat within the hour. 

"Great housekeeping, " he said, grinning. "When I get back home I guessmy mother'll make me do all the kitchen work. Ain't war what GeneralSherman said it was--and then some?"

"But we wish to hurry on, Monsieur, " said the major quietly. 

"Nothing doing!" responded the sentinel. "I got particular orders notto let anybody pass--not even with the word. Just stick around alittle while, you and the lady. Toppy'll be along soon. "

Ruth wondered that the French officer did not reveal his identity. Butshe remained silent herself, knowing that Major Marchand must have goodreason for not wishing his rank known. 

"We got to watch this old ranch, " continued the talkative sentinel, nodding toward the half-ruined dwelling. "Somebody thinks there'ssomething besides cooties in it. Yep, " as the major started and lookedat him questioningly. "Spies. Those Dutchmen are mighty smart, theydo say. I'm told they flash signals from that window up yonder clearacross the swamps to the German lines. Now, when it gets dark----"

He nodded and pursed his lips. The major nodded in return. Ruthremained silent, but she was becoming nervous. While they were inaction and going forward the suspense was not so hard to bear. But nowshe began to wonder how she was ever going to cross that morass themajor had told her about. And half a hundred other difficultiesparaded through her troubled mind. 

They sat upon the bank, and waited. The sentinel continued to march upand down just the other side of the fire, occasionally throwing aremark at the major, but usually with his face turned toward the house, which was distant about five furlongs. 

Suddenly Ruth observed that Major Marchand had in his palm a littleround mirror. He seemed to be manipulating it to catch the firelight. Ruth saw in a moment what he was about. 

The sentinel stopped in his beat with a smothered exclamation. Hisback was to them and he was staring up at the open window of the house. 

There came a flash of light from the window--another! Like lightningthe sentinel raised his rifle and fired pointblank into the opening onthe second floor. 

Then, with a shout, he dashed across the intervening space anddisappeared within the house. Major Marchand seized Ruth's hand androse to his feet. 

CHAPTER XXI

A NIGHT TO BE REMEMBERED

"Come!" the French officer whispered. "Now is our chance. "

"Oh!" Ruth murmured, scarcely understanding. 

"Haste! He will be back in a minute, " the officer said. 

He helped her over the dyke, and, stooping, they ran away from theabandoned house from which the puzzled American sentinel thought he hadseen a spy flashing a light signal to the enemy lines. 

"Fortunately, I had a little mirror, " murmured Major Marchand, as heand the girl hurried on through the dusk. "With it, you see, I flasheda reflection of the firelight upon the broken panes of that upperwindow. Our brave young American will discover his mistake before hisrelief comes. We could not wait for that. Nor could we easily explainto his top-sergeant why we wished to go forward. "

"Oh!" murmured Ruth again. "In your work, Monsieur, I see you have totake chances with both sides. "

"It is true. Our own friends must not suspect too much about us. Thebest spy, Mademoiselle, plays a lone hand. Come! This way. We mustdodge these other sentinels. "

It was evident that he knew the vicinity well. Beyond the mesa theydescended through a grove of big trees, whose tops had been shot off bythe German guns. 

They traveled through the lowland swiftly but cautiously. Ruth couldnot see the way, and clung to Major Marchand's hand. But she tried tomake no sound. 

Once he drew her aside into a jungle of brush and they crouched there, completely hidden, while a file of soldiers marched by, their fileleader flashing an electric torch to show the way. 

"The relief, " whispered Major Marchand, when they had gone. "They maybe swarming down this hill after us in a few minutes. "

The two hurried on. The keen feeling of peril and adventure grippedRuth Fielding's soul. It was not with fear that she trembled now. 

At length they halted in a pitch-black place, which might have beenalmost anything but the sheepfold Major Marchand told Ruth it was. Heproduced an officer's trench whistle and blew a long and peculiar blaston it. 

"Now, hush!" he whispered. "It is against usage to use these whistlesfor anything but the command to go over the top at 'zero. ' Necessity, however, Mademoiselle, knows no law. "

They waited. Not a sound answered. There was no stir on any side ofthem. Ruth's fears seemed quenched entirely. Now a feeling ofexultation gripped her. She was fairly into this adventure. It wastoo late to go back. 

The major blew the whistle a second time and in the same way. Suddenlya dark figure loomed before them. There was a word In French spokenout of the darkness. It was not the password the Major had given theAmerican sentinel. 

"Come, Mademoiselle, " said the major. "Give me your hand again. "

Ruth's warm hand slipped confidently into his enclosing palm. TheFrenchman's courtesy and unfailing gentleness had assured her that shewas perfectly safe in his care. 

They left the sheepfold, the second man, whoever he was, moving aheadto guide them. Even in the open it was now very dark. There was nomoon, and the stars were faint and seemed very far away. 

Finally Ruth saw that a ridge of land confronted them; but they did notclimb its face. Instead, they followed a winding path along its foot, which soon, to the girl's amazement, became a tunnel. It was dimly litwith an electric bulb here and there along its winding length. 

"Where are we?" she whispered to the major. 

"This is the first approach-trench, " he returned. "But silence, Mademoiselle. Your voice is not--well, it is not masculine. "

She understood that she was not to attract attention. A woman in thetrenches would, indeed, create both curiosity and remark. 

The guide stopped within a few yards and sought out trench helmets thatthey all put on. When the strap was fastened under her chin Ruthalmost laughed aloud. What would Helen and Jennie say if they couldsee her in this brand of millinery?

She controlled her laughter, however. Here, at the first cross-trench, stood a sentry who let them by when the ghostly leader of the trio, whose face she could not see at all, had whispered the password. Ruthwalked between her two companions, and her dress was not noticed in thedark. 

Soon they were out of the tunnels through the ridge. Later she learnedthat the ridge was honeycombed with them. The trench they entered wasbroader and open to the sky. And muddy!

She stepped once off the "duckboards" laid down in the middle of thepassway and dipped half-way to her knee in the mire. She felt that ifthe major had not pulled her up quickly she might have sunk completelyout of sight. 

But she did not utter a sound. He whispered in her ear:

"I admire your courage, Mademoiselle. Just a short distance farther. Do not lose heart. "

"I am just beginning to feel brave, " she whispered in return. 

Presently the leader stopped. They waited a moment while he fumbledalong the boarded side of the trench. Then a plank slid back. It wasthe door of a dugout. 

"This way, Major, " the man said in French. 

The major pushed Ruth through the narrow opening. The plank door wasclosed. It was a vile-smelling place. 

A match was scratched, a tiny flame sprang up, and then there flared acandle--one of those trench candles made of rolled newspapers andparaffin. It illumined the dugout faintly. 

There were bunks along the walls, and in the middle of the planked cavewas a rustic table and two benches. Evidently the men who sometimesoccupied this trench had spent their idle hours here. But to RuthFielding it seemed a fearful place in which to sleep, and eat, and loafaway the long hours of trench duty. 

"All ready for us, Tremp?" asked Major Marchand of the man who had ledthem to this spot. 

The American girl now saw that the man was a squat Frenchman in thehorizon blue uniform of the infantry and with the bars of a sergeant. He was evidently one of the French officers assigned to teach theAmericans in the trenches. 

In his own tongue the man replied to his superior. He drew from one ofthe empty bunks two bulky bundles. The major shook them out and theyproved to be two suits of rubber over-alls and boots together--agarment to be drawn on from the feet and fastened with buckled strapsover the shoulders. They enclosed the whole body to the armpits in awaterproof garment. 

"A complete disguise for you, Mademoiselle--with the helmet, " MajorMarchand suggested. "And a protection from the water. "

"The water?" gasped Ruth. 

"We have half a mile of morass to cross after we get out of thetrenches, " was the reply. "I am unable to carry you over that, pickaback. You will have to wade, Mademoiselle. "

CHAPTER XXII

THROUGH THE GERMAN LINES

Perhaps this was the moment most trying for Ruth Fielding in all thatlong-to-be-remembered night. And the Frenchmen realized it. 

Having come so far and already having endured so much, however, thegirl of the Red Mill was of no mind to break down. But the thoughtintroduced into her brain by Major Marchand's last words was troublingher. 

As for roughing it in such an admirable garment as this rubber suit, Ruth was not at all distressed. She had camped out in the wilderness, ridden half-broken cow ponies on a Wyoming ranch, and gone fishing inan open boat. It was not the mannish dress that fretted her. 

It was the suggestion of the long and arduous passage between theAmerican trenches and the German trenches. What lay for her in that NoMan's Land of which she had heard so much?

"I am ready, " she said at length, and calmly. "Am I to remove myskirts?"

"Quite unnecessary, Mademoiselle, " replied the major respectfully. "See! The garment is roomy. It was made, you may be sure, for a manof some size. Your skirts will ruffle up around you and help to keepyou warm. At this time in the year the swamp water is as cold as thegrave. "

Without further question the girl stepped into the rubber suit. Sergeant Tremp helped to draw it up to her armpits, and then buckled itover her shoulders. He showed her, too, how to pull in the belt. 

She immediately felt that she would be dry and warm in the suit. And, although the boots seemed loaded, she could walk quite well in them. Major Marchand gave her a pair of warm gloves, which she drew on, aftertucking her hair up under her helmet all around. 

The major thrust two automatic pistols into his belt. But he gave hera small electric torch to carry, warning her not to use it. 

"Then why give it to me?" she asked. 

"Ah, Mademoiselle! We _might_ need it. Now--_allons_!"

Tremp slid the plank back, and they filed out into the trench after hehad looked both ways to make sure that the coast was clear. Ruthwondered what would happen to them if they were caught by an Americanpatrol? Perhaps be apprehended for the spies they were--only theAmericans would think them spying for the Huns!

The major's hands were full. Before the candle had been put out Ruthhad seen him pick up two gas-masks, and he carried these as theystumbled along the duckboards toward the next cross trench. 

"Halt!"

A sibilant whisper. Sergeant Tremp muttered something in reply. Thetrio turned the corner and immediately it seemed they were at the backof the firing shelf where--every so far apart--the figures of riflemenstood waiting for any possible German attack. The men in the trenchesat night are ever on the alert. 

Nobody molested the girl and her companions. Indeed, it was too darkto see much in the trench. But the sergeant seemed to know his wayabout perfectly. 

Little wonder in that. The French had dug these trenches and SergeantTremp knew them as he did the paths in the environs of his nativevillage. 

At a dark corner he clucked with his tongue and brought them to a halt. 

"This is it, Major, " he whispered, after peering about. 

"Good!" ejaculated the officer softly. "Let me step ahead, Mademoiselle. Cling to my belt behind. Try to walk in my footsteps. "

"Yes, " she breathed. 

Tremp seemed to melt into the darkness. Major Marchand turned at anabrupt angle and Ruth followed him as he had desired. She knew theywere passing through a very narrow passage. The earth was scraped fromthe walls by their elbows and rattled down upon their feet. 

The passage rose slightly. The bottom of the trench they had justleft--the very front line--was all of thirty feet in depth at thispoint. This narrow tunnel was thrust out into No Man's Land and led toa listening post. 

At least, so she supposed, and she was not mistaken. Nor was shemistaken in her supposition that Tremp was no longer with them. He wasnot prepared to cross the Savoie morass. 

A breath of sweeter air blew upon Ruth's cheek. 

"Down!" whispered the major. They almost crawled the final few yards. 

There was a quick word spoken ahead and the clatter of arms. MajorMarchand shrilled a whisper in reply. 

"Come, my boy, " he said aloud, turning to Ruth. "We must step outlively. It is nearing ten o'clock. "

"So you take a friend to-night, do you, Major?" asked a good Americanvoice--that of the officer in command of the listening post. 

"Aye, " was the reply. "A boy to help me bring home the fish I maycatch. "

There was a little laugh. Ruth felt herself in a tremor. She knewinstinctively that it would never do for her sex to be discovered. 

She was not discovered, however. They stood upon the surface. MajorMarchand took her hand and led her quietly away. The earth about themlooked gray; but the blackness of night wrapped them around. There wasnot a light to be seen. 

She realized more by the sense of locality she possessed than by aughtelse that they were on the lowland far beyond that ridge through whichthey had first tunneled after Sergeant Tremp had joined them. 

Her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness as they stumbled on. Belowthem and ahead, she occasionally caught the glint of water. It was apool of considerable size. She believed it must be the small lakeMajor Marchand had spoken of. 

Suddenly Ruth seized her companion's arm. 

"There!" she whispered. 

"What is it?" he asked in the same low tone. 

"There are men. See them?"

"No, no, Mademoiselle, " he told her with a small chuckle. "There areno men standing so boldly there. They are posts--posts to which ourbarbed-wire entanglements are fixed. "

"Oh!" she breathed with relief. 

"Be not alarmed----" He seized her shoulder as he spoke and so greatwas his sudden pressure on it that he carried her with him to theground. 

A shower of flare rockets had erupted from the German trenches. Theysailed up over No Man's Land and burst, flooding acres of the roughground with a white glare. 

The major and Ruth lay flat upon the ground, and the girl knew enoughnot to move. Nor did she cry out. For five minutes the eruptionlasted. Then all died down and there was no reply from the Americanside. Major Marchand chuckled. 

"That was most unexpected, was it not, Mademoiselle? But have no fear. The first patrol has already been across here to the German wireentanglements to-night, and found nothing stirring. It is not yet thatwe shall run into Germans. "

They arose, and the major led straight on again, slowly descending theeasy slope of this hillside. Finally they reached a gaping hole. Ruthknew it must have been made by a shell. It was thirty feet or moreacross, and when they descended into it she found it to be fully twentyfeet deep. 

"Now you may show a flash of your light, Mademoiselle, " the Frenchmanadvised her. "Thank you. Remove that casque you wear. These wouldattract much attention upon the German side. Here is a German helmetto take the place of the other. I cached them on a former trip. So!Now, over this way. On hands and knees, Mademoiselle. "

She followed him, obeying his word. So they crept out of the marmitehole and up under the entanglement of wire. It was plain that thispath had been used before. 

Once clear of the barrier, they descended the last few steps to theshore of the lake. There was thick shrubbery here, but Major Marchandled through this to the narrow beach. 

"Can it not be crossed by boat?" she whispered. 

"This water can be seen from watchers of both armies. Its leastdisturbance--even that occasioned by a swimmer--would draw volleys ofshots from Americans and Germans alike. 

"Now, we follow along this narrow beach. Step in my track, ifpossible, Mademoiselle Fielding. And keep within touch of me. "

They walked on steadily. Soon the track became soft and sticky. Shesank ankle deep in mire. Then gradually the morass grew deeper and shewas in mud and water up to her knees. Later she was plodding half-legdeep, panting deeply. 

The Frenchman wished to get to a certain place before they halted. Thegirl was almost exhausted when the major leaped out upon a log andoffered her his hand. 

"Come up here, Mademoiselle, " he whispered. "We shall be dry here--andwe can rest. "

She could not speak; but her breathing soon grew calmer. MajorMarchand said, suddenly speaking in German:

"Forget your French, Fraulein--from this point on. The German tongueonly for us. "

"Oh! Are we near?" she asked, obeying him. 

"Yes. Can you go on again?"

"At once, " she declared with confidence. 

They walked to the end of the long log. Stepping down, she found thatthe quagmire was not so deep. But for some minutes they continued toplow through it, but walking as softly as possible. 

Ahead there was a flash of light. Ruth thought it might be anotherflare, and prepared to drop down in the mud. 

But it was merely an electric torch. There were voices--rougher voicesthan those to which Ruth had been used. She caught German words. 

Major Marchand drew her behind the huge trunk of a tree. Theresplashed past through the mud a file of bulky figures. When they hadgone, her companion whispered to the girl:

"Fraulein, it is a patrol. We are in good season. Soon we shall bethere. "

She was soon able to walk beside him on higher ground. She saved herbreath for continued exertion. They came to a wire entanglementsomewhat similar to that on the American side of the morass. But herea narrow path had been opened for the patrol. 

"Halt! Who goes there?" croaked the sentinel. 

"_Ein Freund_!"

The major gave the reply in a guttural tone. He stepped forward andwhispered to the sentinel. Evidently he had the password of theGermans, as he had had that of the Americans!

Ruth followed on through the wires. They crossed a narrow field andwere again challenged. Here a sergeant was brought to confer with thedisguised Frenchman. But it was all right. He and his companion werepassed, and they were led on by the sergeant. 

They went over several bridges which spanned the front trenches andthen their escort left them. Major Marchand seized Ruth's hand andheld it for a moment. 

"Rejoice, Fraulein!" he whispered. "We are through the lines. "

CHAPTER XXIII

THE GARDENER'S COT

Ruth Fielding thought afterward that Major Marchand must possess theeyes of a cat. And his sense of locality was as highly developed asthat of a feline as well. 

In the midst of the wood into which they had come out from the Germantrenches he discovered a path leading to a tiny hut, which seemedentirely surrounded by thick brush. 

He left her waiting for a moment while he ventured within. Then hecame to the door and touched Ruth's sleeve. 

"I can never know who is waiting for me here, " he whispered. 

"Your brother?"

"No, no! Some day they will suspect--these Boches--and they will findmy little lodge. You know, Fraulein, the pitcher that too often goesto the well is at last broken. "

She understood his meaning. At last he would be caught. It was thefate of most spies. 

He lit a smoky lamp; but it gave light enough for her to see that thehut was all but empty. It must have been a swineherd's cot at apre-war date. There was a table, a sawed-off log for a chair, acupboard hanging against the wall, and a heap of straw in a corner fora bed. 

This he pushed aside until he revealed beneath it a box like a coffin, buried in the dirt floor. Its cover was hinged. 

From this hidden receptacle he drew forth the complete uniform of aUhlan lieutenant. "Turn your back for a little, Fraulein, " he saidsoftly. "I must make a small change in my toilet. "

He removed the muddy rubber suit and the helmet. Likewise, the smock, and baggy trousers, like those worn by Nicko the chocolate peddler. Ina trice he clothed himself from top to toe as a Uhlan full lieutenant. He stood before the small glass tacked in the corner and twirled andstiffened his mustache with pomatum. When he turned and strode beforeRuth again he was the typical haughty martinet who demanded of the rankand file the goose-step and "right face salute" of the German army. 

"For your protection, Fraulein, " he said, stooping at the box again, "we must make a subaltern of you. "

"Oh! I could never look like a boy, " Ruth objected, shrinking as shesaw the second uniform brought to light. 

"For your protection, " he said again. "A girl like you, Fraulein, would not have the chance of a rabbit among these Huns. They are notFrench, " he added dryly. "I will step outside. Make haste, please. "

He practically commanded her to don the uniform he laid out. 

Ruth let fall the heavy rubber garment she had worn through the swamp. Then she removed her outer clothing and got into the uniform and intothe long, polished boots quickly. There was even the swagger cane thatyoung Prussian officers carry. 

She viewed herself as well as she could in the piece of mirror in thecorner. She might have the appearance of a "stage" soldier; but nobodywould ever, for a moment, take her for a man!

She strode up and down the hut for several moments, trying to tune hergait to her new character--no easy matter. Finally she went to thedoor. The lamplight showed her figure boldly in the frame of thedoorway. She saw the waiting major start, and he muttered somethingunder his breath. 

"Am I not all right?" she asked with some trepidation. 

For once Major Marchand forgot himself. 

He bowed his stiff, military bow with a gesture as though he would kissher finger tips. 

"Assuredly, Mademoiselle!"

She drew back for him to enter the hut again. He withdrew from the boxunder the straw a long, military cloak, which he fastened upon Ruth'sshoulders. 

"It will cover the figure, Fraulein. And now, a bit of camouflage. "

From his pocket he drew a leather roll, which, when opened, proved tocontain shaving materials and certain toilet requisites. With acamel's hair brush dipped in grease paint he darkened her lip and hercheekbones just before her ears--as though the down of immature manhoodwere sprouting. She again looked at herself in the glass. 

"I _am_ a boy now!" she cried. 

Major Marchand chuckled as he tumbled the rubber suits and all theother articles into the box, shut the cover and covered it with thestraw. He looked carefully about the hut before they departed to makesure that no signs of their occupancy of it were left. He even rubbedout faint imprints of Ruth's slippers upon the damp earthen floor ofthe hut. 

Putting out the smoky lamp, they left the place. The Frenchman seemedto know the vicinity perfectly. They followed yet another path out ofthe wood and came to what was evidently a small inn. There was a noisyparty within, caparisoned horses held by orderlies in the yard, andseveral automobiles under the sheds. 

"Some of the Crown Prince's wild friends, " whispered Major Marchand toRuth. "We must keep out of their sight but appear to be members of theparty. Remember, you are Sub-Leutnant Louden. I am your superior, Leutnant Gilder. Do not speak if you can help it, Fraulein--and thenof the briefest. "

She nodded, quite understanding his warning. She was alive to theperil she faced, but she felt no panic of fright now that she was inthe midst of the adventure. 

The major found somebody in authority. An auto-car for hire? Surely!A price asked for it and a driver to Merz, which staggered Ruth. Buther companion agreed with a nod. To be a Prussian lieutenant of theCrown Prince's suite one must throw money around!

In ten minutes they were under way--as easily as that was itaccomplished. Huddled down in her corner of the tonneau, with thecloak wrapped around her, Ruth dozed. It was growing very late, andafter her struggle across the swampland between the lines she wasexhausted in body if not in mind. 

She awoke suddenly. The car was stopping at a wide gateway and twosentries were approaching to examine their papers. 

The Frenchman seemed prepared for everything. He had papers forhimself and for "Sub-Leutnant Louden. "

"Correct, Herr Leutnant. Pass on. "

The car entered the private estate, but swiftly sped off into a sideroad instead of going up to the big house in the upper windows of whichRuth saw lights, although it was now nearly morning. 

"Our quarters are in the gardener's cottage, " said the major, loudly, evidently intending the information for the automobile driver's ear. 

They came to a roomy old cottage. Its windows were dark. Thechauffeur stopped before it and the major sprang out. 

"Have a care how you step, " he whispered to Ruth, and she made ready toget out of the car without a tumble. The high boots did feel queer onher legs. 

Her companion was hammering on the door of the cottage with the hilt ofhis sword. A window opened above. 

"Leutnant Gilder and Sub-Leutnant Louden billeted here. Make haste andcome down, " he commanded in his gruffest voice as the automobilewheeled around in the drive and started back for the gate. 

In three minutes the door was opened; but it was dark inside. 

"Is it thou, my Henri?" whispered a voice. 

"Allaire!"

Ruth knew that it was the young count himself. Major Marchand drew herinto the tiny hall. There was not much light, but she saw the two tallmen greet each other warmly--in true French fashion--with a kiss uponeither cheek. 

CHAPTER XXIV

CAPTAIN VON BRENNER'S SISTER

The major turned immediately to Ruth, drawing his brother forward. 

"Mademoiselle Ruth Fielding, Allaire. The Count Marchand, " hewhispered formally. "You understand, from my message by Bubu, Allaire, for what reason the lady has taken this arduous journey, do you not?"

"But yes, " rejoined his brother. "Bubu safely arrived. I have not yetsent him back. "

"But Tom--Lieutenant Cameron? What of him?" Ruth asked anxiously. 

"Have no present fear, Fraulein, " said the count in German. "He hasnot yet been allowed to return to his rooms at the hotel in Merz. Thatis all. "

"He is a prisoner at the house up yonder, yes?" the major asked, with ashrug. 

"Not a prisoner. A guest, " replied the count. "General Stultz isstill friendly. The Hauptman von Brenner, " and he smiled, "is teachingthe general some American card game, I believe. The whole staff iscard-crazy. They have little else to do but play. "

"And what plans have you already made for Fraulein Ruth?" queried MajorMarchand. 

"While she remains under this roof she will pass as Frau Krause'sniece. But in the morning she will be furnished an outfit I havesecured, and she shall enter Merz as a very different person. "

"Oh, dear!" murmured Ruth. "Another disguise?"

"You could scarcely continue in your present dress and escapediscovery--by daylight, " the count said dryly. 

This fact was, of course, patent. Ruth was only too glad that thevoluminous cloak covered her completely. 

The count led her up two flights of stairs to a tiny, neat chamberunder the roof. It was evidently a domestic's bedroom. 

"Put the uniform outside the door, Fraulein, when you remove it. Itmust be hidden, " whispered the count. "You will find night apparel onthe chair. The good Frau Krause has thought of everything. "

This, indeed, seemed to be the fact when Ruth awoke from her soundsleep at mid-forenoon. She might not have aroused then had there notbeen an insistent tapping on the door. 

"_Ja_? _Herein_!" exclaimed Ruth, not too sleepy to remember herGerman. 

A broad face surmounted by a cap, then the woman--quite a motherlylooking person--appeared. "I am to help the Fraulein dress, " announcedFrau Krause, smiling. 

"If you will be so kind, " the girl agreed. 

What she had not noticed when she went to bed was an open trunk heapedwith clothing--both for under and outer wear. The rich and "stuffy"gown was typically German, and so was the plumed hat. 

Ruth was sitting, with her hat on, in the little dining-room of thecottage over her pot of substitute coffee, rye bread and schmierkäse, when a private and almost noiseless auto-car rolled up to the door. She went out and entered it quite alone, and they were out of theMarchand estate by a rear exit and on the highway to Merz before Ruthdiscovered that the capped and goggled chauffeur was none other thanCount Allaire Marchand himself. 

In a stretch of the road where there was no traffic and few houses insight, he half turned in his seat and told Ruth in brisk, illuminatingsentences what she was to do. 

It sounded easy, providing she aroused no suspicion in the breasts ofthose whom she met. The supposed character of Captain von Brenner'ssister would enable her to treat everybody in a distant and haughtymanner. 

"But be careful of your German, Fraulein, " urged the count. "Make noerror in your speech. Deny yourself to everybody until your brotherappears. After your first outburst of anger and alarm, when you arriveat the hotel, retire to the rooms he engaged for you, and refuse todiscuss the matter with anybody. 

"It is, as you Americans say, one grand game of bluff. It can becarried through by no other means. Remember what I have told you totell your brother. To-night at nine, or to-morrow night at nine, Iwill be in waiting with the car. This is absolutely all my brother andI can do for you. "

In a few minutes the car rolled into the principal street of Merz. Just beyond the great, glass-roofed building, wherein in happier timesthe visitors went daily to drink the medicated waters, was the hotel. 

A rheumatic old woman with a sash, who acted as carriage opener, with ayoung boy for porter, met "Captain von Brenner's sister. " In the hallthe corpulent host bowed before her. 

"Captain von Brenner?" queried Ruth. "I am his sister. "

Mine host paled. His eyes grew round with wonder. 

"What it the matter with you?" asked the girl impatiently. "Are youdumb?"

"He is not here, mein Fraulein, " chattered the man. 

"Send for him, then. And show me to the suite he engaged for me. "

"Fraulein! Pardon!" gasped the innkeeper. "We did not understand. That is--it was---- We thought he would not return. "

"What?"

"And that--that the _gnädiges Fraulein_ would not come. "

"Idiot!" exclaimed Ruth, revealing an excellent semblance of rage. "You have relet my rooms?"

"But you may occupy the Herr Hauptman's, " burst out the browbeatenInnkeeper. 

"And where is Captain von Brenner?"

It all came out at one gush of chattering information. The captain hadbeen sent for by the Herr General Stultz. He had already been awaythree days. It was whispered he was arrested. 

After her first show of annoyance Ruth seemed to recover herself-possession. She listened more quietly to the explanation of theexcited hotel man. Then she demanded to be shown to her "brother's"rooms. 

There she sat down and wrote quite a long letter to Tom Cameron in thecharacter of his sister, "Mina von Brenner. " She was sure Tom wouldrecognize her handwriting and understand at once that she was at Merzin an attempt to aid him. 

"Fear not for me, Brother, " she wrote in conclusion. "But hasten toassure your Mina that you are perfectly safe. Is it not possible foryou to return to the hotel by dinner time? I am distraught for yoursafety. "

She sent this letter, with gold, by the hotel keeper, who said he couldfind a messenger to go to the Marchand estate. Ruth knew, of course, that her letter would be read there before it was given to Tom. 

Even if they questioned him about his sister before giving him theletter Tom would make no mistake. "Mina von Brenner" was already acharacter and name chosen by Count Allaire and Tom when the latter tookup his difficult and dangerous work in the guise of an Uhlan captain. 

That was one of the longest days Ruth Fielding had ever spent. As thehours dragged by she sat and pondered in the rooms Tom had occupied, one moment in despair of his coming, the next fearing that every stepin the corridor outside her door was that of a guard come to arrest her. 

Yet her own safety scarcely mattered. She felt that if she could notcompass Tom's escape, she did not care to go back across the lines, were that even possible!

Ruth Fielding learned much about her own heart during that longwait--much that she would not have acknowledged to any other soul inthe world. 

It finally grew dark. She would allow the servant to light but asingle candle. This stood upon her table beside which she sat with herforehead resting in her hand, her elbow on the table. 

Suddenly there sounded a quick step in the corridor. Ruth had beenmistaken so many times that she did not raise her head or look up. Arap on the door, and before she could say "_Herein_!" the knob turned. 

A figure dashed in--a brave figure in a uniform somewhat similar to theone Ruth herself had worn the night before. 

"Mina!" cried a welcome and familiar voice. "My dear sister!"

Tom rushed across the room. Ruth saw, as she rose, that there were twoofficers with him, but they remained outside. They saw Tom take her inhis arms in a most affectionate and brotherly manner. Then they closedthe door, evidently satisfied. 

"No need of tearing my hair down and breaking my ribs, Tom, " Ruthwhispered. "Please remember that I am _not_ Helen, after all. "

"No, " he returned softly. Then, holding her off to look more closelyat her, he went on more lightly: "You are Mina von Brenner. Greatheavens, my dear! How did you get here?"

CHAPTER XXV

BACK AGAIN

It was Ruth who finally remembered to order dinner sent up. 

Her letter, read, of course, by the mildly suspicious old general, hadserved to release Tom from present espionage. There was not even aguard in the corridor when, just before nine, the "brother and sister"left the rooms and strolled out of the hotel into the streets. 

They walked several blocks until Tom was assured they were not spiedupon. Then quickly, through several short but crooked side streets, heled Ruth to a garage in an alley. He tapped a signal on the door. Thelatter slid back. 

The purring of a motor was heard. A man silently got into the driver'sseat. Tom helped Ruth into the tonneau and got in himself. 

"You have your papers, Captain?" asked the count softly. 

"Yes. They did not take them from me. "

"And the lady's?" said the other. "If we are halted you know what tosay?"

"Quite, " returned Tom in German. 

The car rolled out of the garage, the door of which closed as silentlybehind them as it had opened. Ruth made up her mind that Merz wasquite as infested with French spies as the towns behind the Frenchlines were infested with those of the Germans. 

The car left the town quickly. She remembered the road over which shehad traveled that morning. They entered the Marchand estate by thesame rear gate where only one sleepy guard hailed them and did not evenlook at the papers when he observed Tom's uniform. 

"Farewell, " whispered the count as they approached the gardener'scottage. "I may not see you soon again, Captain. Nor the Fraulein. Best of luck!"

They alighted. The car wheeled and was gone. Good Frau Krause metRuth at the door, hurried her up to the small room and there helped herinto the uniform of the sub-lieutenant of Uhlans. 

When Ruth came down into the parlor of the cottage she found two otherofficers of apparently her own regiment awaiting her. Tom rushed toher. But she only gave him her hand. 

"Manifestly this is no place for renewed protestations of brotherlyregard, Tommy, " she said demurely. "I presume we have to go throughall the difficulties we did last night, Major?"

"And quickly, " muttered Major Henri Marchand, looking away from them. "There is something on foot. I should not be surprised if the promisedattack and advance under barrage fire is to begin before morning. "

"I am ready, " the girl said simply. 

"Here is the car I sent for, " the Frenchman said, raising his hand ashe heard the automobile without. "You ahead, Captain. Remember, youare our superior officer. "

They filed out. The car which the major and Ruth had used in reachingthe gardener's cottage from the German front stood panting on thedrive. The three got in. 

They wheeled around, boldly passing the front of the Marchand housewhere the general and his staff lived and where Tom had been anunwilling guest for three days, and so reached the main entrance of theestate. 

Here their papers were scrutinized, but superficially. Captain vonBrenner's name was already known. Leutnant Gilder and Sub-LeutnantLouden were remembered from the previous evening. 

The car started again. It slipped between the massive stone posts ofthe gateway. It sped toward the front. But all the peril was yetahead. 

"How can we get through the German trenches if they are already filledwith the shock troops that will be sent over following the barrage?"asked Tom. 

"We must beat them to it, as you Americans say, " chuckled the major, whose spirits seemed to rise as the peril increased. 

And he prophesied well in this matter. They were, indeed, in thetrenches before the reserves were brought up for the planned attackupon the American lines. 

The trio of fugitives left the car at the wayside inn. They found thehidden hut and made their changes into rubber suits, an outfit beingproduced for Tom by the indefatigable Major Marchand. 

Through the shrouding darkness they went in single file to the wooddirectly behind the trenches. As on the previous night the French spyhad secured the password. Three men with an evident objective "upfront" were allowed to pass without question. 

Once "over the top" they lay in the field until a patrol went outthrough the wire entanglements to spy about No Man's Land. The threejoined this party, but quite unknown to its leader. 

Once on the black waste at the edge of the morass, the three fugitivesseparated from the German patrol and slipped down into the low ground. Major Marchand found the path, and, for a second time, there began forRuth that wearisome and exhausting journey through the swamp. 

This time, what with her failing strength and the excitement of theventure, Ruth was utterly played out when they reached the log whereonshe and the major had rested the night before. 

"We'll carry her between us--chair fashion, " suggested Tom Cameron. "That is the way, Major. Interlock your hands with mine. Lean back, Ruthie. We'll get you out of this all right. "

It was a three-hour trip to the American trenches, however, and, aftera while, Ruth insisted upon being set down. She did not want tooverburden her two companions. 

At the listening post an officer was sent for who recognized MajorMarchand and who took Tom and Ruth "on trust. " The major, too, sentthe word up and down the trenches by telephone that the expectedadvance of the Germans was about to occur. 

As the three passed through the American lines, after removing therubber suits in the dugout, they passed company after company ofAmerican troops marching into the trenches. 

Tom left Ruth and the major at a certain place to report to hiscommander. But he promised to be in Clair the next morning to satisfyHelen of his safety. 

It was almost morning before the major and Ruth secured transportation, the one to the Clair Hospital, the other to the chateau on the hillbehind the village. But it was an officer's car they used, and itcovered the distance less bumpily than had Charlie Bragg's ambulance. 

"Mademoiselle, " said Major Henri Marchand in his most punctilious way, "it is in my heart to say much to you. I approve of you--I admire you. Your courage is sublime--and your modesty and goodness equally so. 

"Forgive the warm expressions of a Frenchman who appreciates yourattributes of character, as well as your graces of person. Believe meyour friend forever--your devoted and humble friend. And I trust yourfuture will be as bright as you deserve. "

The day was just breaking as he thus bade her good-bye and RuthFielding alighted from the machine at the gateway of the hospital. 

She stood for a minute and watched the car disappear in thesemi-darkness with this faithful soldier of France sitting so uprightupon the rear seat. And she had once suspected him of disloyalty!

The sentinel presented arms as she went in. She climbed wearily to herown little white cell that looked out toward the battle front. Alreadythe guns had begun--the big German guns, heralding an attack for whichthe Americans were prepared, thanks to Tom Cameron!

The thundering echoes awoke Helen and Jennie. They scurried intoRuth's little room to find her sitting on the side of her cot sippinghot tea which she had made over her alcohol lamp. 

"Where _have_ you been?" cried Helen. And Jennie chimed in with:

"Two whole nights and a day! It is disgraceful! Oh, Ruthie! Are youreally wedded?"

"I am wedded to my work, " replied the girl of the Red Mill quietly. 

"Dear, dear! How original!" drawled Jennie. 

"What are those guns?" demanded Helen. "Aren't they going to stoppretty soon?"

"They have merely begun. You are here in time to witness--from aperfectly safe distance--a German drive. This sector will be plowed byhuge shells, and our brave boys in khaki will hold the German hordeback. It will be one of the hottest contested battles our boys haveexperienced. "

"Pooh! How do you know?" scoffed Helen. 

"I warrant it will all be over in an hour, " added Jennie. "What do youknow about it, Ruth Fielding? You haven't been over there to find outwhat is in the mind of the Hun. "

"_Haven't I_?"

Ruth Fielding hesitated. Should she tell them? What would these, hertwo closest girl friends, say or think, if they knew what she had beenthrough during the past thirty-six hours?

Suppose she should picture her adventure to them--just as it hadhappened? Suppose she told them of her long journey with the Frenchmajor across No Man's Land?

"Where is Tom? Did you get word to him?" Helen asked. 

"He will be here this morning to see you, " Ruth said, and then wentback to her thoughts of her adventure. 

"Goody! Dear old Tom will take us around and show us the big shellholes--and all, " Helen declared. 

Shell holes! Ruth remembered the shell hole in which they had changedsteel helmets before and after crossing the swamp. How she must havelooked in that shapeless rubber garment and steel hat!

"What under the sun are you laughing at, Ruth Fielding?" demanded Helen. 

"Yes. Do tell us the joke, " drawled Heavy Stone. 

"I--I was ju-just thinking of how fun-funny I must ha-have looked in ahat I had on since I saw you girls!" Ruth was hysterical. 

"Well! I never!" gasped Jennie. 

"Dear me, Ruth, " Helen said, admonishingly. "I wonder you are solight-minded at such a time as this. You are laughing when thosehorrid guns may be throwing shells right among our poor boys. Dear, dear! I wish they would stop. "

Ruth gazed at Helen with a far-away look in her eyes. 

"I'm not laughing, " she said slowly. "Far from it!"

"Yes, but you did laugh!" burst out Jennie. 

"If I did, I didn't know it, " answered Ruth. "I was thinking ofsomething else. Oh, girls, not now--to-morrow, perhaps--you may knowabout it. Now I'm tired, so tired!"

The two girls, at last realizing that something out of the ordinary hadoccurred and seeing how near the end of her strength Ruth really was, petted her, made her as comfortable as possible, and finally left herto rest, telling her they would still take charge of the supply room, so that the girl of the Red Mill need not take up at once her duties inthe hospital. 

THE END