This was comforting, but only to a slight degree. Ruth Fielding was not a person given to allowing things to take their course. She usually planned far ahead and "made things come her way."
She stared out rather stonily upon the landscape. Charlie was still driving at his maddest gait. They passed few houses, and those they did pass were deserted.
"Your Americans, Mademoiselle," said the major, "have prepared for the expected German advance with a completeness—yes! They have my admiration."
"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 with General Stultz he gained such information. The High Command of the German Armies has planned this attack upon the first American-held trenches."
"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 just arrived at Clair and awaits him there at the hospital. I have not dared 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 so impossible for her to do this great thing she had set out to do. She felt her limitations.