nt off into a
temper, rattling off a torrent of excited German, and again looking
towards the road, spat vigorously.

As she handed me bread and cheese there were tears in her eyes. I
remember as I left I kissed her and as I made for the strip of white I
had seen earlier in the day, I carried the vision of those tear-dimmed
eyes. "Somebody's mother," I mused. "Somebody's mother."

CHAPTER XVI.

From February to August.

It has been said that, if coincidences did not happen, stories would not
be written, and what I am about to write seemed at first strange, and
yet, as events proved, was only natural.

Before I reached the white mark upon the tree I heard the noise of the
breaking of bushes, so I carefully reconnoitred, and before long a
swishing near by caused me to drop beneath a shrub, as there passed me
within one hundred yards a figure dragging two saplings. I clapped my
hand over my mouth to prevent shouting. It looked like Nap!

In my excitement I had moved. A sun-ray struck my white jacket. The
figure stood, dropped the bushes, drew his revolver and turned his face
toward me. It was Nap!

I rushed out.

"Nap," I shouted--but the revolver was still pointed.

"Hands up," he called, nonplussed at the German-looking figure rushing
towards him. I threw his old phrase at him: "Fly high and good luck, old
man." Then his arm dropped.

"The voice is Jefson's, sure enough," he said, "but the darned mug licks
me."

"Wait till I cover up the mo'," I said, putting my hand over my mouth.

"Well, old chap, shall we drop a 'cough drop'?" I asked; and he nearly
wrung my arm off.

"I fell near here three nights ago," he explained, "engine trouble--and,
although it's enemy's country I don't like to burn the old 'bus, so I've
backed its tail as far as I could into the bush and am screening the
exposed part with bushes so that it won't be spotted from aloft. There's
not much wrong with it, rather a bad strip of the fabric ripped off as I
was coming down, but I struck an abandoned farm yesterday a mile from
here, and when I cover up the jigger, I'm just going over to see if I
can fossick out something to patch her up."

"I guess I know where your strip of fabric is," I said.

I then told him of the white mark on the tree and how it led me to him,
and as we went to salvage it, he told me of the mighty doings of the
war.

"Let me see," he said, "you went out on your Zep. raid last February?
Well, lots have