He was no skillful driver, but he
had learned enough to manage a machine in some fashion, and powerful
emotions were driving him on.
"Up, Weber!" he cried.
"Which way are you going?"
"To the hospital camp, of course, and we'll just touch the top of the
high-arched bridge over the river! The snowfall is decreasing fast, and
soon we'll be able to see a long distance."
"We can do so now, and the moon is coming out, too. Heavens, Mr. Scott,
it's come too soon, because it shows us to the enemy!"
He pointed with a long and shaking finger. At the far end of the street
a massive German column was emerging into view. John was startled.
"These are no raiders!" he exclaimed. "They must have broken through a
portion of our lines and are attempting to flank other positions! But
Chastel's hospitality for us is ended."
He put on full speed and drove the machine rapidly through the snow
toward the river.
"We've another reason now why we should reach the camp!" he exclaimed.
"Our people must be warned of the presence of the Germans in force in
Chastel!"
There was a crash of rifle fire and bullets struck all about them. Two
or three glanced off the side of the machine itself, which a moment or
two later ran into a deep drift and stuck there, panting.
Weber sprang out and threw himself flat in the snow.
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