"Oh, you needn't think you're the only chap that has a drag with the
girls," went on Tom. "Just because Bessie Gleason--"

"Cut it out!" exclaimed Jack. "Look, she acts as though she wanted
to speak to us."

The military chauffeur had alighted from the machine and was talking
to one of the French aviation officers. Meanwhile the girl, left to
herself, was looking about the big aviation field, with a look of
wonder, mixed with alarm and nervousness. She caught sight of Tom
and Jack, and a smile came to her face, making her, as Tom said
afterward, the prettiest picture he had seen in a long while.

"You're Americans, aren't you?" began the girl, turning frankly to
them. "I know you are! And, oh, I'm in such trouble!"

Tom stepped ahead of Jack, who was taking off his cap and bowing.

"Let me have a show for my white alley," Tom murmured to his chum.
"You've got one girl."

"You win," murmured Jack.

"Yes, we're from the United States," said Tom. "But it's queer to
see a girl here--from America or anywhere else. How'd you get
through the lines, and what can we do for you?"

"I am looking for my brother," was the answer. "I understood he was
stationed here, and I managed to get passes to come to see him, but