Once more the staunch lorry followed the road toward the front, guided now by a new and undoubtedly loyal driver. Don saw to it that the brandy that had been smuggled beneath the seat was all thrown out, the bottles smashed. The four sappers and the other cook were again taken aboard and on the car went, with few stops. Camp for the night was made in a deserted and shell-torn old house within sound of the occasional firing and bursting of heavier caliber shells. Early the next morning, about two hours after the start at daylight, Lieutenant Richards and his companions crossed a bridge over the Aire River, reached the top of a long hill and were suddenly almost within range of the German machine guns at the edge of the Argonne Forest. “You fellows go on to your destinations,” Don said. “I stop here; the bunch I’m hunting are in there fighting now.” As Don approached the woods habit was strong within him and he wanted an ambulance with which he could aid in helping the seriously wounded that seemed to be everywhere. But the stretcher men, the _brancardiers_, were on the job and the boy had now no business to take a hand. Guided by the plop, plop of rifles and the more rapid staccato of machine guns he ran on into the dense woods, from out of which all along its edge wounded men were staggering, crawling or being carried and some few were going in; messengers also from the division C. and C., liaison men with information tending to hold the units together, Y. M. C. A. and K. of C. workers, relying on the success of the Americans and at once eager to advance their depots, even some Salvation Army lassies, two of whom Don saw ministering to the wounded, but being gently checked from further dangerous advance by the Military Police. Don had made several inquiries of the M. P.’s and of less seriously wounded soldiers; he knew he was on the right track, but knew not how he would find Captain Lowden. Under the stress of immediate circumstances the officer would hardly have time to talk with him now, but the boy could stand by and wait; he could even take some part along with the soldiers, and at this his heart leaped. With an instinct born of knowing well how to use a gun and how to play at Indian fighting, he would welcome a chance to join this sort of thing. Immediately ahead of Don, dodging along through the trees, was another fellow, probably bent on a similar errand, but evidently in no great hurry; rather was he looking about him sharply as he advanced, as though fearing to run into the enemy. As the two clambered together over a pile of rocks and through a thicket of scrub trees the boy introduced himself, noting also that the other was a liaison officer, a sergeant. He was not inclined to talk; did not give his name, but seemed to want to turn aside. There was sudden shooting just ahead of them; some yells and loud voices in unison. The sergeant stopped and Don, facing him by chance, looked him over, the former saying: