Allan and Bumpus might look back and wave their hands to the kindly surgeon, but Thad, as the pilot at the wheel, had his work cut out for him elsewhere. It was no easy task to thread his way in among the numerous vehicles in motion without a collision of some sort. The road was close at hand, however, and once on that he would have things easier. At times fair speed might be made, though often they must follow in the wake of a clumsy laden van because the other side of the road was taken up completely with vehicles going to the front.

And now they could no longer see the field hospital, since a spur of land hid it from the view of those who looked back; but they would often have distinct visions of that amazing picture in days to come, and always must find indelibly stamped upon the picture the face of that noble American surgeon who gave all that was in him for the cause of suffering humanity.

“Well, we’re off at last!” said Bumpus, when they found themselves gliding along the road smoothly, dodging trouble as it loomed up in the shape of puffing motor trucks and lorries, both French and English, all packed to the limit with such supplies as a vast army must have day by day.

“And say, this machine is a big improvement on that old shebang we ran up there in Belgium a while back,” added Allan with a smack of satisfaction in his manner.

“The proof of the pudding is in the eating of it,” Thad told him. “Don’t crow too soon, boys. It may turn out that I’ll wreck the car in some way before I’m done, though you can bet your last cent I’m going to be mighty careful. We’re making history right now, come to think of it, and can’t afford to take chances.”

CHAPTER XIX
THAD TURNS MAGICIAN

Their troubles began almost as soon as they struck the road. Owing to the fact that there was an almost constant stream of motors and other vehicles going and coming, it took on the aspect of a moving procession.

Thad was compelled to fall in line and curb his impatience as best he could. Of course, at the same time, he remained on the alert for such openings as occurred, when he might take advantage of a chance to pass ahead, and spin along a stretch of territory that offered the opportunity.

Progress was tedious, and was made all the more so on account of the open hostility shown by many of the truck drivers and those connected with ambulances. These natives could not understand what business those three boys dressed in faded khaki could have seated in a fine car and heading apparently toward Paris. They must have jumped to the conclusion that Thad and his chums were out for a lark; a trio of curious English lads who wanted to bother everybody by trying to see some of the fighting.

Consequently the French drivers resented this seeming impertinence. More than that, they began to interfere, whenever they found a chance, by deliberately blocking the road and delaying the boys unnecessarily. Often, too, some husky chauffeur would call out to them in a sarcastic tone; and while they could only guess at the import, they understood that it was not meant for a compliment; in fact, they were very likely being compared to “pigs.”