THE LAST LOAD
"Yes, child, take the Stafford car," she nodded to an ambulance which waited on the broad drive.
Without another word Vera ran to the car and cranked it up. As she climbed into the driver's seat she felt her knees trembling.
"Please God, it isn't Tam!" she prayed as she drove the little car along the aerodrome road; "not Tam, dear Lord—not Tam!"
And yet, by the very panic within her she knew it was Tam and none other.
"To the left, I think."
She looked round in affright.
She had been oblivious to the fact that a doctor had taken his seat by her side—it was as though he had emerged from nothingness and had assumed shape and substance as he spoke.
She turned her wheel mechanically, bumped across a little ditch and passed through a broken fence to where a knot of men were regarding something on the ground.
She hardly stopped the ambulance before
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