the chill in the air. And yet these fellows were laughing together and
chatting as pleasantly as children just released from school. Even those
who had wounds made light of their hurts. Clouds of smoke hovered low in
the air; the firing was incessant.

Our girls were thrilled by this spectacle as they had never been
thrilled before--perhaps never might be again. While they still kept
their seats, Maurie started with a sudden jerk, made a sharp turn and
ran the ambulance across a ridge of solid earth that seemed to be the
only one of such character amongst all that waste of sand. It brought
them somewhat closer to the line but their driver drew up behind a great
dune that afforded them considerable protection.

Fifty yards away was another ambulance with its wheels buried to the
hubs in the loose sand. Red Cross nurses and men wearing the emblem on
their arms and caps were passing here and there, assisting the injured
with "first aid," temporarily bandaging heads, arms and legs or carrying
to the rear upon a stretcher a more seriously injured man. Most of this
corps were French; a few were English; some were Belgian. Our friends
were the only Americans on the field.

Uncle John's face was very grave as he alighted in the wake of his
girls, who paid no attention to the fighting but at once ran to assist
some of the wounded who came staggering toward the ambulance, some even
creeping painfully on hands and knees. In all Mr. Merrick's conceptions
of the important mission they had undertaken, nothing like the nature
of this desperate conflict had even dawned upon him. He had known that
the Red Cross was respected by all belligerents, and that knowledge had
led him to feel that his girls would be fairly safe; but never had he
counted on spent bullets, stray shells or the mad rush of a charge.