She stood for a minute and watched the car disappear in the semi-darkness with this faithful soldier of France sitting so upright upon the rear seat. And she had once suspected him of disloyalty!
The sentinel presented arms as she went in. She climbed wearily to her own little white cell that looked out toward the battle front. Already the guns had begun—the big German guns, heralding an attack for which the Americans were prepared, thanks to Tom Cameron!
The thundering echoes awoke Helen and Jennie. They scurried into Ruth's little room to find her sitting on the side of her cot sipping hot 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 you really 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 stop pretty soon?"
"They have merely begun. You are here in time to witness—from a perfectly safe distance—a German drive. This sector will be plowed by huge shells, and our brave boys in khaki will hold the German horde back. It will be one of the hottest contested battles our boys have experienced."
"Pooh! How do you know?" scoffed Helen.