Ruth Fielding at the War Front

Fielding at the War Front, by
Alice B. Emerson

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Title: Ruth Fielding at the War Front or, The Hunt for the Lost Soldier
Author: Alice B. Emerson
Release Date: March 16, 2007 [EBook #20834]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RUTH
FIELDING AT THE WAR FRONT ***

Produced by Al Haines

[Illustration: "HALT!" WAS THE SUDDEN COMMAND.]

Ruth Fielding

At the War Front
OR
THE HUNT FOR
THE LOST SOLDIER

BY
ALICE B. EMERSON
AUTHOR OF "RUTH FIELDING OF THE RED MILL," "RUTH
FIELDING IN THE SADDLE," ETC.

ILLUSTRATED

NEW YORK
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY
PUBLISHERS

Copyright, 1918, by
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY
RUTH FIELDING AT THE WAR FRONT

CONTENTS
I. TO GET ACQUAINTED

II. AT THE CHATEAU
III. A PERILOUS PROJECT
IV. UNDER FIRE
V. MOTHER GERVAISE
VI. THE MYSTERY
VII. WHERE IS TOM CAMERON?
VIII. THE CHOCOLATE PEDDLER
IX. COT 24--HUT H
X. DEVOURING SUSPICION
XI. THE FLYING MAN
XII. AUNT ABELARD
XIII. AN UNEXPECTED MEETING
XIV. MORE SACRIFICES THAN ONE
XV. BUBU
XVI. THE HOLLOW TOOTH
XVII. THE WORST IS TOLD
XVIII. BEARING THE BURDEN
XIX. ADVENTURE
XX. ON THE RAW EDGE OF NO MAN'S LAND
XXI. A NIGHT TO BE REMEMBERED

XXII. THROUGH THE GERMAN LINES
XXIII. THE GARDENER'S COT
XXIV. CAPT. VON BRENNER'S SISTER
XXV. BACK AGAIN

RUTH FIELDING AT THE WAR FRONT
CHAPTER I
TO GET ACQUAINTED
It was a midwinter day, yet the air was balmy. The trees were
bare-limbed but with a haze clothing them in the distance that seemed
almost that of returning verdure. The grass, even in mid-winter, showed
green. A bird sang lustily in the hedge.
Up the grassy lane walked a girl in the costume of the active Red Cross
worker--an intelligent looking girl with a face that, although perhaps
not perfect in form, was possessed of an expression that was alluring.
Neither observant man nor woman would have passed her, even in a
crowd, without a second glance. There was a cheerful light in her eye
and a humorous curve to her not too-full lips that promised an uplifting
spirit within her even in serious mood.
It seemed as though this day--and its apparent peace--must breed
happiness, although it was but a respite in the middle of winter. The
balmy air, the chirrup of the bird, the far-flung reaches of the valley
which she could see from this mounting lane, all delighted the senses
and soothed the spirit.
Suddenly, with an unexpectedness that was shocking, there was a
tremor in the air and the echo of a rumbling sound beneath the girl's
feet. The crack of a distant explosion followed. Then another, and

another, until the sound became a continual grumble of angry
explosions, resonant and threatening.
The girl did not stop, but the expression of her face lost its cheerfulness.
The song of the bird was cut off sharply. It seemed as though the sun
itself began drawing a veil over his face. The peaceful mood of nature
was shattered.
The girl kept on her way, but she no longer stepped lightly and
springily. Those muttering guns had brought a somber cloak for her
feelings--to her very soul.
Somewhere a motor began to hum. The sound came nearer with great
rapidity. It was a powerful engine. It was several seconds before the
girl looked up instead of along the road in search of the seat of this
whirring sound.
There shot into view overhead, and flying low, an aeroplane that looked
like a huge flying insect--an enormous armored grasshopper. Only its
head was somewhat pointed and there, fixed in the front, was the ugly
muzzle of a machine gun. The airplane flew so low that she could see
the details.
There were two masked men in it, one at the wheel, the other at the
machine gun. The aeroplane swooped just above her head, descending
almost to the treetops, the roaring of it deafening the girl in the Red
Cross uniform. There was the red, white and blue shield of the United
States painted upon the underside of the car.
Then it was gone, mounting higher and higher, until, as she stood to
watch it, it became a painted speck against the sky. That is the lure of
the flying machine. The wonder of it--and the terror--attracts the eye
and shakes the spirit of the beholder.
With a sigh the girl went on up the lane, mounting