“And now we’ve got to cover the same ground again, do we?” asked Amos.
“Pretty much so,” he was told by his comrade. “Only with this paper from the general we may look to have all sorts of favors granted to us. Who knows but what we may get a ride part of the way in an automobile, or on a motor truck going for the injured? I mean to make an effort, if a chance comes along.”
CHAPTER XXIII.
A RIDE ON A GUN CAISSON.
“There’s the cottage of François Bart,” observed Amos, some time later, as they passed through the village on the outskirts of Ypres.
“Yes, and some one is waving to us from the open door,” added Jack. “It must be his good wife, and she has recognized her lodgers of last night.”
“I hope they get no bad news about their boy from the front where the Belgian army is holding out so stubbornly,” said Amos, reflectively.
“So long as he stands up to the job neither of them will complain,” the other commented. “They felt the disgrace much more than they would the stab if news came that Jean had fallen while doing his duty for his country.”
“For one I’m glad we had a chance to run across a little side drama like that, Jack. It showed us of what stuff these patriotic Belgians are made. And you can find some mighty bright material for your correspondence in that happening, too.”
Chatting after this fashion they trudged along. The way seemed fairly familiar to them, since they had so recently come over it. As before, the road was at times almost clogged with the numerous vehicles passing back and forth. These consisted altogether of motor vans or lorries going after more wounded, or fetching loads of the same from the front where the battle still raged; cars containing officers hurrying to the fighting line; artillery trains of cannon; supplies; ammunition, and even more armored cars.