"Well, I've been watching closely," continued the far-seeing and less excitable Tom, "and I've noticed that while every ambulance going to the rear is loaded to capacity with wounded Frenchmen—singing and acting as though on a picnic instead of being taken to the rear to have an arm or a leg removed it may be—those going up are, as a rule, light."
"Yes," quickly observed Jack, grasping the idea. "And some have officers inside, giving them the chance to save the long and tiresome tramp. Is that your scheme?"
"Nothing venture, nothing gain, they say," chuckled the other. "Let's shoulder our stuff here, and move over to the road. Then we can tackle one of the ambulance drivers who looks a bit friendly. When he learns who we are and where we're going he may take pity on us and give us a lift."
"It sounds good to me, so let's be on the move," Jack hastily said, starting to load himself down with luggage.
A short time afterward the pair had reached a spot where they could stop one of the empty army ambulances with their red crosses painted on the sides, the driver also carrying the well-known insignia of his calling on his left sleeve.
"Here comes an empty ambulance," remarked Tom, presently, scrutinizing every vehicle in
