ed the
possibility of his being a traitor.

But she was very silent during the rest of that wild ride. Now and
then they were stopped by sentinels and had to show their papers. At
least, the Red Cross girl had to show hers. Charlie was pretty well
known by everybody in this part of the war zone.

They would come to a dugout in the hillside, or a half-hidden hut, and
be challenged by a sentinel, or by one of the military police. A
pocket lamp would play upon Ruth's face, then upon her passport, and
the sentinel would grunt, salute, and the car would plunge on again.
It seemed to Ruth as though this went on for hours.

All the time her brain was active with the possibilities surrounding
Tom Cameron's disappearance. What could really have happened to him?
Should she write to Helen in Paris, or to his father in America, of the
mystery? Indeed, would the censor let such news pass?

Once she had believed Tom seriously wounded, and for several days had
hunted for him, expecting to find him mutilated. Fortunately her
expectations at that time had been unfounded.

It seemed now, however, as though there could be no doubt but something
very dreadful had happened to her friend. Added to his peril, too, was
this awful suspicion that others seemed to hold regarding Tom's
faithfulness.

It was going to be very hard, indeed, for Ruth Fielding to keep her
mind on her work in the Red Cross while this uncertainty regarding
Lieutenant Cameron remained.

CHAPTER VIII

THE CHOCOLATE PEDDLER

There was the flash of a lamp ahead.

"Here we are!" cried Charlie Bragg, in a tone of relief, bringing the
car to a rocking stop.

Ruth Fielding could see but little as she looked out from under the
hood of the ambulance. Yet she imagined there was a ridge of land
behind the compound at the entrance to which they had halted.

Charlie got out and helped her down. A second man appeared in the
gateway of the stockade beside the sentinel. The girl approached with
the ambulance driver, who said:

"Here she is, Doc. And a load of stuff she says you'll need. This is
Miss Fielding--and she's a regular good fellow. Doctor Monteith, Miss
Fielding."

"I am glad to see you," the surgeon said warmly, taking the bag from
Ruth and seizing her cold hand in his warm clasp. "We are very busy
here and very short of supplies. Our stores were utterly destroyed
when----"

He did not finish his statement, but ushered her into the co