“Are you a safe driver?” demanded Mrs. Smythe. “Very, but I am not a skilled driver.” “Take the wheel. You can do no worse than the present driver.” “I will settle with you for this later,” muttered J. Elfreda in a low voice to her companion. “I call this a low-down trick. I probably shall turn you all over in the ditch.” “Go as far as you like,” answered Grace, getting out to enable Elfreda to take the driver’s seat. Miss Briggs fumbled, stalled the car, but after a few back-fires succeeded in getting under way, the passenger growing more and more irritable as the moments passed. Elfreda shot ahead with a jolt that brought a torrent of abuse from the supervisor, and narrowly missed smashing into an officer’s car ahead. A few rods further on, in attempting to dodge an army truck, J. Elfreda Briggs came to grief. One of the rear wheels of the army automobile slipped from the road into a shallow ditch, the wheels sank into the soft mud and the car began to settle, threatening every second to turn over on its side. Grace snapped off the spark and silenced the motors, her quick action saving them from a bad spill. Elfreda had wholly lost her head. “Drive out, drive out!” cried Mrs. Smythe. “I--I can’t,” gasped Miss Briggs. “The wheels will go around but the car won’t move. What shall I do?” “We must all get out,” directed Grace. Just then a car slipped past them and brought up abruptly. Grace observed that it was an officer’s car, but beyond that gave no heed. A second or so later she saw two men get out and walk back toward them. “I thought I recognized you when we passed, Mrs. Gray,” called a familiar voice. “Are you in need of assistance?” “Why, Colonel Gordon--I mean General Gordon,” corrected Grace, flushing. “I am glad to see you and glad of the opportunity to congratulate you on your promotion.” “You are no more delighted to see me than I am to meet you again. I believe this is Miss Briggs, isn’t it? Mrs. Gray and Miss Briggs, meet Captain Boucher of the Intelligence Department.” The general and the captain shook hands cordially with both Overton girls, the general giving a quick, comprehensive glance at the occupants of the rear seats, and nodding ever so slightly. Grace did not offer to introduce either to the supervisor. “Mrs. Gray is the young woman who saved my life in the Argonne, Captain. I could tell you a lot more about her, but I know it would embarrass her if I did. Miss Briggs, I did not know that you drove.” “I don’t,” answered J. Elfreda rather abruptly. “Oh, yes she does,” insisted Grace. “At least she has just driven us into a ditch. Miss Briggs learned to drive immediately after the armistice was signed, but in doing so she smashed up two army cars and ran over a major. She will soon be up to my record. My latest exploit, General, was trying conclusions with the concrete railing of a bridge yesterday. The bridge won and we all went into the river.”