Shortly afterward Bumpus believed he glimpsed those whom he was yearning to see. At least he discovered figures at one side of the dusty road when passing vehicles allowed him the opportunity, and they seemed to be bending over some object which he could easily believe might be the driver. Yes, and now he made sure of it, because who else would be wearing that well-known khaki uniform with the equally familiar battered campaign hats?
It was with a lively sense of gratification that Bumpus hurried along, and presently saw Allan wave his hand in a way to testify that he had recognized the stout chum. Thad, too, looked up and gave him a welcoming smile.
“Well, stranger, where have you sprung from?” asked Allan, as the wheezing Bumpus joined them.
Apparently the scouts had managed to stop the flow of blood and had bound the injured arm of the driver with more or less skill. The poor chap looked white and weak, yet his eyes glowed with fire, and Bumpus believed there could be no doubt about his getting over his accidental wounding. It might have proven a fatal injury, though, if not taken just in time, for the man had lost a great deal of blood.
“Oh! I got lost, all right, just as Giraffe said I would,” replied Bumpus cheerfully, “and I’ve had a whole lot of queer adventures which I’ll tell you about later on. What are you meaning to do with this poor chap, fellows? I met Giraffe down the road and he told me how I’d find you here, so I hurried along.”
“Here’s a van coming,” explained Thad, “and we’ll put him aboard if they’ll make a little room. He can explain who he is and how one of our crowd has taken his place on the ambulance.”
Allan stopped the motor truck. It was a large affair which had probably carried ammunition to the front; now it was taking back the fruits of that sort of deadly business in the shape of grievously wounded soldiers; as Allan put it, “cause and effect.”
The man in charge happened to understand enough English to grasp what Allan attempted to tell him about the wounded driver. Upon examination it was found that there was not an inch of room inside the truck, for the injured men lay as thickly as they could be placed. But the driver told them he had a seat that might accommodate two in a pinch, and moreover, he could part of the time keep an arm around the other.
So they hastened to help the wounded Red Cross driver to climb aboard. He vainly tried to thank them for what they had done for him, but his smile was enough to satisfy those scouts. Then the big van pulled out and the three boys were left on the road.
“Come, tell us what you’ve been doing, Bumpus,” urged Allan, doubtless fairly consumed with boyish curiosity, after hearing the returned wanderer say what he had about meeting with strange adventures.