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're in need of but you, Miss Ruth?" inquired Charlie Bragg, looking sideways at her.
"No. I am alone at Clair, you know quite well, Charlie. The supplies are entirely under my care. I can teach somebody else over there at the bombed hospital in a short time how to handle the things. Meanwhile, the matron—or somebody else—can do my work here. It would not do to send a greenhorn to such a busy hospital as this must be to which you are taking me."
"Busy! You said it!" observed the driver. "You'll see a lot of rough stuff, Miss Ruth; and you haven't been used to that. What'll Tom Cameron say?" and he grinned suddenly.
Ruth laughed a little. "Every tub must stand on its own bottom, Aunt Alvirah says. I must do my duty."
"It'll be a mighty dangerous trip. I'm not fooling you. There are places on the road—— Well! the Boches are all stirred up and they are 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 and somebody to attend to them."