shaken hands around the group of American Ambulance men who gathered
to greet us before we heard a B-A-N-G!--an awful sound! It was as
if someone suddenly had picked up the whole Haynes Hardware store--at
Emporia--tinware, farm implements, stoves, nails and shelf-goods,
and had switched it with an awful whizz through the air and landed
it upon the sheet-iron roof of Wichita's Civic Forum, which seats
six thousand! We looked at each other in surprise, but each realized
that he must be casual to support the other; so we said nothing
to the Ambulance boys, and they, being used to such things, let it
pass also. We went on talking; so did Major Murphy, being a soldier.
So did Mr. Richard Norton, being head of the American Ambulance
Service. In a minute there was a fearful whistle--long, piercing,
and savage, and then they had taken the Peters Hardware stock in
Emporia and dumped it on the Wichita Union Station. This time we
saw a great cone-shaped cloud of dirt rise not 400 feet away--over
by the wagon road, across the brook from us. Still no one mentioned
the matter. It seemed to Henry and me to be anything but a secret,
but if the others had that notion of it, far be it from us to blab!
An ambulance driver came lazying around the corner and began to
start his car.

"Any one hurt, Singer?" asked a handsome youth named Hughes, of
the Corps.

"Man hit by the first shell up here by the railroad. I'm going
after him."

"Hurt badly?" asked another boy.

"Oh, arm or shoulder or something blown off. I'll be back for