“Lowden’s killed, out there near the woods.”
“Is that true?” Herbert was shocked, saddened more and more.
“Don’t take me for a liar, do you?” queried the sergeant belligerently. Suddenly, hearing someone coming, he swung around and stared for a moment, then added quickly:
“Well, if you won’t believe me, you needn’t; it’s your own funeral. I did my duty so far and I’ve got to go on.” With that he turned and hastened away through the forest. Herbert had also turned, wondering what it could all mean. Then he heard a familiar voice, cheery and glad.
“Oh you Herb!” and Don Richards, pistol in hand, was coming rapidly toward him.
CHAPTER VI
Shifted
UPON his return to duty at the new Red Cross base just south of St. Mihiel, Don Richards had been sent at once to the evacuation hospital four miles farther toward the front and there he reported to Major Little, who received him with many expressions of gratification over his return. The two entered the surgeon’s office and supply room in the rear of an old château and sat talking for a few minutes. In one corner of the room was an army officer at a table covered with documents and the man was busily engaged. Presently he arose and came over to the major.
“May I trouble you for that list once again, Doctor?” he asked. “I want just another peep at it.”