d his mettle in the tight corners. And regardless of what he'd
said, Freddy probably would have done a better job of flying that Arado,
too. At every turn the English youth popped up with a new side to him.
He sure was glad Freddy and his ambulance had come along when they had.
And, gee, just how long ago was that, anyway? Three days, or three
years? It had been plenty long ago anyway.

At that moment Freddy suddenly sat forward and tapped the Sergeant on
the shoulder.

"Why are we heading east?" he asked and pointed at the last rays of the
setting sun. "If you're trying to get to Namur, you're going in the
wrong direction."

"That is so," the Sergeant called back. "But, it is necessary. The
Boches have cut the road, and we must go around them. Soon it will be
dark. It will not be so hard when it is dark. Do not worry, my little
one, we shall get there."

Freddy started to argue but seemed to think better of it. He sank back
on the seat scowling thoughtfully at the setting sun. Dave looked at him
a moment, and then spoke.

"What gives, Freddy?" he asked. "Do you think the Sergeant doesn't know
what he's doing?"

"No, he's probably right," the English youth said. "If the Namur road
has been cut by the Germans we've got to go around them, of course. But
I've spent several summers in this part of Belgium, and...."

Freddy stopped short and leaned forward once more.

"Why can't we circle around them on the west, Sergeant?" he shouted.
"Can't you cut over and take the road leading south from Wavre?"

The Belgian let out a yell of consternation and stopped the car so
suddenly he almost pitched the two boys right over the back of the front
seat.

"The brain of a cat I have!" he shouted and thumped a big fist against
his forehead. "But, of course, of course, my little one! Those bombs and
shells! They must have made scrambled eggs out of what I have in my
head!"

Taking his foot off the brake the Belgian shifted back into low gear and
got the car underway again. At a crossroads some hundred yards ahead he
turned sharp right and fed gas to the engine. A moment later a machine
gun yammered savagely behind them. Dave twisted around in the seat and
saw an armored car bearing German army insignia racing for the turn-off
they had taken, but from the opposite direction. There was a machine gun
mounted on the car and a helmeted German soldier was striving to get
them in his range.

The Belgian Sergeant took one quick gl