"'Yes, Herr Officer, I'll help you. You are a human being even if you are a Prussian. Here we go again.' Grasping the handles of the barrow, the lad started on a run with the wounded man.
"A shell burst in the road just ahead of him. Quickly dropping his homely vehicle, little Lucien ran for a tree and shinned up it without loss of time. His passenger had slid out into the road when the barrow tipped over on its side.
"'Herr Officer, who did that?'
"'It was a Prussian shell. Take me away before they hit me,' begged the officer.
"'Why don't you tell them to stop? It's your people who are shooting at you. They must want to be rid of you. I——'
"A shell struck the tree, well down toward its base. The jolt nearly shook the boy from his perch in a crotch of the tree. Very slowly at first, then with increasing speed the tree began to fall. It came down with a mighty crash, hurling little Lucien some distance ahead of it. He was bruised and shaken and for a few minutes he lay where he had fallen, groaning.
"Suddenly he sprang to his feet and started to run toward the rear. The faint voice of the German officer called to him to come back, which brought Lucien to a standstill.
"'Maybe he is afraid, too,' reflected the lad. 'I must get him.' And get him he did. Running back, he loaded the wounded man on the barrow and ran with him all the way to the rear.
"'See! I have taken a Boche,' he cried, staggering up to the dressing station. 'I shall now go get another one.' This he did. He was taking a new interest in his work, and thereafter made no distinction between Germans and Frenchmen in his work of mercy.