“Are you all right, old fellow?” he asked eagerly.

“Fit as a fiddle,” was the faint reply.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were wounded?”

“To tell the truth, I didn’t know it myself until just as I stepped from the wagon.  I can’t remember when the bullet hit me, but I suppose it was when the Germans fired through the side of the wagon.  But it was weak of me to give way as I did.”

“Weak!  Great Scott!  Even the surgeon is unable to see how you held out as long as you did.  You have had a mighty narrow escape, I can tell you!”

“I guess I have,” replied Hal feebly.  “But anyhow it’s an escape.  Did you deliver the letter to General Givet?”

“Yes.”

At this juncture, a nurse approached.

“You must go now,” she told Chester.  “Your friend must have perfect quiet for the remainder of the day.”

“All right,” replied Chester, and then turning to Hal: 

“Well, good-by, old man.  I’ll be here the first thing in the morning.”

“Good-by,” replied Hal.  “Now, don’t you worry about me.  I shall be all right.”

Chester made his way from the hospital.

“By George!” he muttered, as he walked down the street.  “I wish it had been me that was wounded instead of good old Hal.  It’s certainly tough on him, but he sure does bear up bravely.”

As Chester continued down the street, he was brought to a sudden halt by the sound of firing from the outskirts of the city; and a moment later a mounted officer dashed through the street, shouting: 

“The Germans!  The Germans are approaching!”

People along the street took up the cry and the air was filled with the sound of startled voices: 

“The Germans!  The Germans!”

Dashing squadrons of cavalry swept through the streets on their way to the front; people jumped out of the way as the artillery was hurried by; and then came columns upon columns of infantry on a quick run.

It was plainly evident that an attack by the Germans had not been anticipated; but now that the enemy was close at hand, everything possible was being done for the defense of the city.

Chester hurried in the wake of the troops, and, as he did so, the first screaming shell burst over his head.  He was hurled to the ground, but escaped injury.  The crowds that had thronged the streets a moment before vanished as if by magic.

The flying shells now screamed incessantly overhead.  From the front came the deafening roar of many guns, and the crash of thousands upon thousands of rifles.  Suddenly the screams of many voices rose, as a building, not far from where Chester stood, was blown into a million pieces.

For a moment Chester was awe-stricken and stood still.

“This is terrible!” he muttered to himself.  “Terrible!”

He was struck by a sudden thought.

“Suppose one of those shells should strike the hospital?” he said to himself.  “What would happen then?  What would happen to Hal?”