sight. "There—just back of that lorry loaded down with foodstuff. We'll try the game out on him for a flier, Jack."
"Hope he's inclined to be a cheerful sort of chap, then," grumbled the other, "because I'm getting mighty tired of standing here, and watching the procession go past."
Closer came the ambulance, its progress being impeded somewhat by the big van in front of it.
He's staring as hard as anything at us right now," muttered Jack. "That may, and again may not, be a good sign. Get ready to run alongside, Tom, and brush up your best parlez vous Francaise, so as to make him understand what we want the worst kind. Oh, I do hope he says 'get aboard with all your traps, and I'll drop you at the aviation camp and hangars which lie right on my way to the front'."
"What's this?" cried Tom half to himself. "Seems to me I ought to know that chap; and yet it can't be possible! This is over in France, and we're listening to the roar of big guns right now at the front! Yet if I didn't know different I'd say that was Neal Kennedy!"
"What?" gasped Jack, clutching his chum's arm in sudden surprise.
"Say, whatever does this mean?" the driver of the Red Cross ambulance sang out, as he
