"I am sorry I cannot be of any service to you in that direction," responded the officer, "but I can commend you to the commanding general, in submitting my report." On leaving the building they passed a group of men, who, evidently, were discussing the incidents of the afternoon, for, as they approached, some of the men saluted them, and one of them held up his hand to stop them. "I am requested to say that Count Le Clery wishes to see you," he said. They looked at him in a bewildered way. "Count Le Clery, who is he?" asked Alfred. "You will find him in the hospital, ward 8," was the reply. "Does he want to see us now?" asked Ralph. "Yes; he is able to see you now," was the answer. Entering the hospital they were directed to a row of cots, patient C, 28. Before them was a man with a bandaged head, and an arm stretched across the bed, held straight with a splint. "I don't suppose you recognize me?" said the man. Alfred looked closer and slowly shook his head. "I am told that you and your friend piloted my car and another through that storm in Devil's Cut," he said. "Oh, I know you now," said Ralph. "Well, we couldn't do anything else, could we?" "Well, I want to thank you, and tell you that you have made a friend who will never forget you. I remember the conversation with you before we had our little accident," he continued, addressing Alfred. "We need young men of your stamp, and I will keep you in mind and act as soon as I am able to move about." Incidents of this kind are always the subjects of conversation among hospital internes. They seem to crave excitement, and like to talk about exceptional exploits. That the boys were volunteers and Americans at that, lately in the aviation corps, bearing honorable discharges for valuable services rendered, was certainly worthy of comment. It was with some surprise that they were directed by the orderly to take possession of a tent, and assigned to a mess made up of the clerks of the warehouse. There they found several other young men, and during the two weeks they remained, were general favorites with every one in the government employ. Late in the evening, hearing an unusual bustle outside, and the tooting of horns, they peered out, and saw a dozen goods vans coming across the compound. On investigation they learned that the last supply vans had not been molested in the least, but the first convoy to reach the field base the next morning was literally shot to pieces, two of the chauffeurs having been killed, several of the assistants severely wounded, and three of the vans completely demolished. The supply station was less than a mile behind the lines, but it was well concealed behind a bluff on the western side of the little stream, and only occasionally would a shell find its way to that section. The precaution was taken by the commanding officer, to keep a score of airplanes above and near the camp and thus prevent the enemy from locating the spot.