"What became of the machine?" was Alfred's next question. "I don't remember anything about it," was the reply, "but they told me it made fine kindling wood." "Too bad!" consoled Alfred. "I liked that little Morane; and to think it's all broken up." "How did you get here?" asked Tom. "Why, we came down with the Red Cross people," explained Ralph. "You seem to get into all sorts of trouble, all along the line," said Tom with an attempt to laugh. "But are you badly hurt?" inquired Alfred anxiously. "The doctors say that there are only a few bones broken, several joints wrenched out of shape, and some of the bark peeled off, but I ought to be out in a few weeks," said Tom. "Tell us what we ought to do now?" Alfred asked him. "What do you mean?" "Why, I want to know whether they will expect us to keep on in the Red Cross service?" "You volunteered, didn't you?" replied Tom. "You helped them out of your free will, and you can leave whenever you want to, if that's what you are getting at." "I wouldn't mind volunteering in the aviation corps," said Ralph. "I would just like----" "So they got you this time, eh?" said a voice. The boys turned, and saw a handsome man with the uniform of a lieutenant in the aviation service, who approached, and leaned over Tom. Tom replied with a smile, and raising his injured hand, pointed to the boys. "Lieutenant," he said, "I want you to get acquainted with two of my American friends, who have been in the thick of it right from the start. Now you'll be conferring a special favor if you can take them in to help you out. Oh, they're bricks," continued Tom, as he saw a shade of discouragement in the lieutenant's features, "they are made of the right stuff." "We leave for Verdun in the morning," said the lieutenant, "but I will see what can be done in the meantime." As they left the hospital the first thought was to go to the Continental Hotel to try to get a trace of Alfred's father. Arriving there a letter was handed them, together with two telegrams from Berne, Switzerland, one of the messages having been received that very day. The missives informed him that his father had not been able to leave German territory until the twenty-eighth of August, and as he had received word that the Germans were approaching Paris he thought it unwise to make the trip to that point, but would await word from them before deciding what to do. "How far is it from Berne to Verdun?" Alfred asked the clerk. "About three hundred kilometers," was the reply. "Let's see; that's about two hundred miles," said Alfred. "And it's a hundred and fifty miles to Verdun. "Then we'll go to Verdun," said Ralph. "But how?" The subject was debated for an hour, when it was decided to return to the hospital. They had forgotten to learn the lieutenant's name, although probably Tom knew how to reach him, they reasoned.