work Lucien forgot his fears. The lad was resourceful and, recognizing
the necessity for getting the wounded from the field, began to cast
about for some means of solving this problem.

"'Ah! A wheelbarrow. The very thing,' he cried. The wheelbarrow
belonged to the farmhouse near the field, from which the occupants had
run away when the troops came. Lucien quickly possessed himself of the
barrow and proudly marched out on the field pushing the barrow ahead
of him. By tipping it up on one side he was able to roll a wounded man
in, not very gently, but he loaded his man in just the same and, red
of face, pushed the vehicle ahead of him and back to the first-aid
dressing station, where he slid his passenger to the ground, leaving
him for the surgeons to attend to and then trotted back to the field.

"Artillery had been brought up by both sides and shells were bursting
overhead, though none had fallen near the little Frenchman.

"Lucien picked up a wounded man near the edge of the battlefield and
began wheeling the victim down the road. The going was better there
and he was enabled to make more rapid progress. Pausing for a rest he
eyed his passenger suspiciously.

"'Who are you?' he demanded.

"'I am a Prussian officer.' The officer was so wounded in both legs
that he could not stand.

"Lucien's face flushed.

"'A Prussian officer!' he cried. 'I ought to dump you out and leave