Trucks in apparently never-ending line were replenishing the company kitchens, bringing up more men and munitions; wireless tractors were pushing to the very front of the lines to maintain complete communication between the foremost and division and brigade headquarters when once the drive in that sector should begin.
Tractors, and mules only a little less powerful, were bringing forward some of the heavy guns, new field hospitals were being set up, and in every department of the great game of war big preparations were under way.
“Doesn’t look as though it was intended we should loaf around here very long,” said George Harper to Phil Godwin, another member of Company C, who came hurrying up at that moment.
“That looks like a pretty safe prediction,” the other man responded, “but where on earth have you been. I’ve been hunting you and Ollie Ogden for half an hour. Major Barton, down at the hospital, sent me after you two and Tom Walton. Just found Tom, but do you know where Ogden is?”
“Right there,” answered Harper, for Ollie had at that moment arrived from another direction and was standing almost directly behind the man who bore the message.
“Major Barton wants to see us at the hospital,” Harper explained. “I wonder what he wants us for.”
“Why,” Ollie answered quickly, “Major Barton was the surgeon who treated that Frenchman we found under the cow-shed. Do you suppose it is in reference to that?”
“It must be,” said George, “although at the time I did not connect the two things. Do you know where Tom is? The summons also included him.”
“Yes, just down the line here,” Ollie replied, at the same time leading the way toward where Major Barton awaited them.
“Maybe that poor Frenchman has died,” was Harper’s comment, after they had told Tom their own speculations as to the call for their presence at the hospital.