boy. "I'm very glad to meet
you, America, but what in the world are you doing here? Good grief, look
at your clothes! Did a bomb fall on you?"

"One came mighty close," Dave said with a grin. "I just came to a few
minutes ago, and saw your lights. I'm trying to get back to Paris. Is it
far?"

"Paris?" young Freddy Farmer exclaimed. "Why, it's over a hundred miles
back. This is a part of Belgium. Didn't you know that? What happened
anyway? You say you were bombed? A nasty business, bombing."

For a moment or so Dave was too surprised to speak. This was Belgium?
But it couldn't be! Freddy Farmer must be wrong. He was sure Defoe and
he had not been seventy miles from Paris when they'd met those
refugees. Belgium? Good gosh! Did that exploding bomb blow him over
thirty miles away? But that was crazy.

"Come, get in and ride with me," the English lad broke into his
thoughts. "I can't take you back to Paris but Courtrai is just up ahead.
That's where I'm delivering this ambulance. Perhaps you can get
something there to take you back to Paris. Right you are, America. Now,
tell me all about it."

As gears were shifted and the car moved forward Dave told of his
thrilling experiences since leaving Paris that morning. Young Freddy
Farmer didn't interrupt, but every now and then he took his eyes off the
road ahead to look at Dave in frank admiration.

"Say, you did have a bit of a go, didn't you?" Freddy Farmer said when
Dave had finished. "That was mighty decent of you to try and help that
old woman. I hope she got through, all right. We heard that the Germans
were shooting and bombing the refugees. A very nasty business, but
that's the way Hitler wages war."

"I hope he gets a good licking!" Dave exclaimed. "Those poor people
didn't have a chance. They were helpless. I don't see how he thinks he
can win the war that way."

"Hitler won't win the war," the English boy said quietly. "He may have
us on the run for a bit, but in the end we'll win. Just like we did the
last time. That's part of his plan, shooting civilians on the road. I
heard a major and a colonel talking about it. You see, if his airplanes
can get the civilians to leave their homes and clog up the roads, why
then our troops have a hard time passing through. I saw some of that
sort of thing myself, today. It was awful, I can tell you. I couldn't
make any more than five miles in six hours. And it was all I could do to
stop them from taking my ambulance and u