Grace said she hoped to be allowed to remain there undisturbed, declaring that it was the most comfortable berth she had found since coming to France, and suggested that they eat their breakfast. It was not wholly a satisfying meal, but it was helped by a bottle of cold tea which did very well to wash down the hardtack and tinned beef. Enough of the tea was saved for their luncheon, for if the rain continued to fall it was Grace’s intention not to get out at all. After breakfast they lay down for another delicious nap, which was not long coming, lulled as they were by the gusts of rain spattering over the top of the camion. It was not until late in the afternoon that they finally awakened.
Peering out, Grace observed that the line back of them was pulling out of formation, which told her that the army was approaching its objective for the day. The rain had stopped, but a strong wind was whipping the clouds, and altogether the outlook was not a cheerful one.
“Here is a village,” she cried. “I hope we have arrived. See, we too are pulling out of formation.”
Elfreda complained that, as Grace was using the only peep hole in the house, she could see nothing.
The camion soon stopped, then backed up, bumped against something as it started backing again, and finally came to permanent rest. Grace decided that it was time to bestir themselves and was about to call through the opening she had made, for assistance, when some one began unhooking the curtains.
“Look out for a surprise,” whispered “Captain” Grace.
The surprise came, but it was not theirs. The driver of the camion, having unhooked the curtain, raised it up to secure it to the top, probably to permit him to take out some supplies, and suddenly discovered them.
“Here you, get out of that before I yank you out!” he ordered roughly.
“You wouldn’t do a thing like that, now would you, Buddy?” teased Grace.