"Rob, you've got a scheme!" asserted Merritt.
"What makes you think so?" asked the other, smiling languidly; for he was very nearly exhausted from the hard work he had done acting as an assistant field surgeon in the service of the Red Cross corps, doing temporary work in binding up wounds, and giving stimulants to those who were weak through loss of blood.
"Oh! I can tell it from the way you act," replied Merritt. "I haven't been your closest chum all this time without getting to know what different things mean. Now give us a pointer; what about getting some supper, and finding a place to sleep to-night?"
"Well, do you think you could stand for another night in the hay?" demanded Rob.
"Just try me, that's all!" whimpered Tubby. "And, say, if you're thinking of going back to that village again, I only hope they'll be good to us, and feed us like they did this morning."
"That's what I had in mind," the patrol leader told them. "So the sooner we make a start that way the sooner we can rest up."
It was weary work tramping all the way back to the little village where they had first met the ambulances of the Red Cross corps, and joined hands with the workers. Rob would have liked to say good-by to the American nurse who had taken so much interest in their welfare. He knew, though, that it would be too much for Tubby to approach that terrible field hospital, where undoubtedly the nurses were still busily engaged helping the surgeons in their labors.
Whenever Tubby groaned and gave signs of dropping, they called a temporary halt and, in this way, made it as easy for the fat scout as possible.
Somehow the very thought of that sweet-scented hay appealed to Tubby very nearly as much as a good feed might; and that was saying a great deal.