Once again along the farm road came Don’s ambulance. It reached the old farm house and stopped. He called loudly for Billy Mearns. There was no answer and Don rose in his seat to go and look for his pal, and to witness the good work he had done here. Always alert, he glanced about. He had not met the other Red Cross ambulance again. Was it still in the low ground by the thicket? It was, and the men there were moving about. Don stood watching them for a moment. He saw a slender figure, one that he surely recognized as that of Billy Mearns, crossing the field toward the thicket. He saw two men within the clump and when Billy reached the bushes and passed among them Don saw one of the men lift his arm as if he were pointing. Then, for an instant, Don’s heart seemed to stand still, for he saw the other man who had been in the clump of bushes raise his arm, holding some sort of weapon and strike the slender figure down. The army ambulance at this moment was also coming along the farm house lane. The driver and helper had been watching the German observation balloon and its strange movements. When they reached the high knoll they, too, stopped to see if this might mean signaling to the enemy. The American driver’s helper was a _poilu_ who had been wounded at the first battle of the Marne in 1914 and long experience in the ways of the Huns had taught him to be suspicious of everything unusual. He knew that the means of communication between a captive balloon and the divisional commander was by telephone and such signaling as this must be to those that a wire could not reach. In broken English he shouted excitedly: “Behold! Zat ess eet, in ze booshes zere, over ze field! Puff, puff, puff; behold! We have heem, _m’sieu’_! An we capture heem now purty queek; right off, eh?” The Yank was about to send the car forward again when his companion stopped him with another exclamation which made it worth while pausing a moment longer for a better view. “Ha, look! Zee balloon, eet seegnal ze enemy, _m’sieu’_! Ha, he come! He come queek; he go fast! Ha! Somesing doing now!” The Frenchman had caught this last expression from his American friend. “An eet ees ze _Croix Rouge_ car, ze other wan. He but young boy. An’ he fire; ha, he too has--what you say? catched on to ze seegnalers. But, _m’sieu’_, will not they reseest heem?” The two were on their feet now, gazing with all eyes, excited. So they remained for some time--the Yank with clenched fists, the _poilu_ rubbing his hands together. Then, as if at a signal, they both dropped into their seats and the ambulance rushed again along the by-way. Halt an hour later, with but one wounded man and a Red Cross driver, unhurt, sitting beside him, the army ambulance drew up to the evacuation hospital tent. In answer to the curt query of the Major, the driver excused himself for bringing in only one man.