ouraged.

There just wasn't any choice. The chauffeur got down and began piling
the gasoline cans behind on the back seat to one side. Then, each of us
grabbing a corner of the mattress, we hoisted the sufferer onto the
machine, covering him with a sheet. Try as we would, though, we could
not get him to bend his knees, and in consequence all during the trip
the poor chauffeur received constant kicks from the agonized soul we
were rushing towards surgical aid.

"Now then," I said, turning to my old driver. "Thank you for your cart,
and bon voyage to Coulommiers. George, tell my people to meet me in
Melun."

And hatless, coatless, with but one golden louis in my pocket (I had
confided my bag to Julie when the wounded man had arrived at Jouy), I
started on our record-breaking trip to Melun.

VII

It was an exciting trip, that race for life and death--for every moment
I knew my wounded boy was growing weaker, and every convulsive kick
meant the disappearance of so much life blood. During the numerous
adventures which befell us between the time we left Jouy-le-Chatel and
our encountering the motor, my hypodermic needle had received such
violent treatment that it refused service. So when we turned into
Mormont at top speed, I was obliged to ask my driver to slow down and
inquire for a doctor. We were directed by a couple of gaping women on
the borders of the little city, who didn't quite understand our mission.
However, they must have been soon enlightened, for as we crossed the
public square the British Red Cross ambulances were pouring in and
lining up in battle array. Behind them came a steady stream of
ammunition wagons, both horse and motor trucks, and from Mormont to
Melun the line was unbroken.

The doctor was absent, but his wife willingly filled his place and with
new hope dawning we backed out of the yard and sped southward.

What was the landscape we passed through I really couldn't say. I had a
dreamy sensation of having run down a refugee's dog, and hearing its
owner wishing us in warmer climes--as well as the feeling that my
blood-stained apron and the agitated white sheet beside me created much
curiosity among the drivers and occupants of the A. S. C. motors that
took up all one side of the road.

One by one the mile posts whizzed past and finally we came into Melun.

"Where's the nearest hospital?" I enquired of a group of soldiers
loitering outside a barracks.

"Give it up! All