left Camp Baker for Camp Berry. Your
letter must have gone astray. I heard from the old home town
of Gridley that you and Hazelton had gone across---something to
do with welfare work. I couldn't make it out," Dick hurried on,"
neither did I know where to address you."

"That's just it, though!" exclaimed Tom Reade, with a happy laugh.
"Welfare work explains it to a dot. We're working for the welfare
of the world by helping to kill as many Huns as possible!"

"But how came you to be here?"

"I might ask as much of you, Dick, as you and I appear to be in
exactly the same boat."

It looked rather ungrateful toward the old peasant who had brought
these old, old friends together, but for a few moments both forgot
him. When they remembered him they found that the old man had
gone, closing the door.

Then Dick told what had befallen him, after which Reade explained
that, three nights before, on a night flight over the German lines,
his plane had been damaged by a fragment of shell from an anti-aircraft
gun. Reade had been obliged to descend some forty miles behind
the German front lines. Fortunately he had come down in a field
near the house in which he now hid. He had cautiously come to
this house, and as cautiously aroused the inmates, reasoning that
they must be French and should befriend him. This the peasants
had cheerfully done.

"I've been hiding here since, and my machine was found, but I
wasn't," Tom wound up.

"You see, this room has no windows, and I keep very quiet, and
so, perhaps, I could remain here safely a month. But I won't.
I have plans for escape back to the French lines."

At this moment the door opened again. The old peasant came in
with a tray on which was a dish of smoking meat, dark bread and
potatoes and a pot of coffee.

"Now, since you are old friends I shall leave you," said the old
man smiling, as he patted both young Americans on the shoulder.
"But Monsieur Reade knows how to call me if I am wanted. Good
rest and stout hearts, young gentlemen!"

"We'll feast a bit!" cried Prescott eagerly.

"You will," Tom corrected. "I've had my evening meal and am not
hungry. Eat before the candle burns out, and while you do so
I will fix the ventilator for the night. When you have eaten
we can turn in on the bed, for we can talk there as well as when
sitting in the dark." Dick fell to ravenously on the food and
coffee, while Tom attended to ventilation by removing a loose
brick