THE RED CROSS CAR
When Warren was dismissed from the hospital, he found himself being
stared at by Ivan in a very perplexing manner. Finally he demanded the
reason. Ivan laughed.
"You look so clean," he said. "Your face does not go with the rest of
you, those ragged clothes and all that. Besides, I have not seen what
your natural face looked like for a few days. I had forgotten just what
you did look like."
Warren smiled.
"Just the same, it did seem good to clean up little," he said. "However,
just to oblige you I'll put on a few frills." He stooped and rubbed his
hands in some plaster dust, and transferred it to his face. Ivan studied
the change.
"That's better," he said. "As long as we have to wear these clothes, I
think we had better look the part. There is one thing certain though. We
are dressed exactly as we were in Warsaw, when we were visiting our
friends, the thieves. I wish we could get some other clothes."
"I hadn't thought of that," said Warren. "I wish we could change, but
how can we?"
"I don't know," said Ivan. "Certainly we can't risk having those people
see us. We will have to be cautious."
"Where shall we go, I wonder?" mused Warren.
"I don't suppose it matters now," said Ivan. "It is so late in the
afternoon. Tomorrow morning we will have to watch the market. They will
be sure to come for more provisions."
"True enough," said Warren. "Let's go down to the central station and
see if the trains are running again."
The boys sauntered down through the streets without being molested by
the sharp-eyed soldiers who patrolled the way. They found the station a
busy place. The trains were once more running, on broken schedules of
course, but everything was so nearly adjusted to the usual order that
there was transportation for the hundreds who were eagerly seeking
passage. There were a great many foreigners carefully clutching their
transports and hurrying out of the country. At the back of the station
stood an automobile, a low, racing roadster.
"We had a ride in her last night," said Warren, as he approached and
recognized the machine. "And it was some ride, wasn't it, Ivan?"
"It certainly was," said Ivan, smiling. "What's the red cross flag on it
I wonder?"
"The Princess has given it over to the hospital, I suppose," said
Warren. "No one will stop it now. Wonder who drives it? I'm sorry for
anyone who rides with the crazy guy who tried to run it last night."
"Here is the chauffeur now," said Ivan, stepping back as a dark, burly
man approached the machine and took a package from the tool-box.
"He is a new one," said Warren.
They wandered around the corner of the building and mingled with the
throngs waiting for the train. It came puffing in, and as the crowd
pressed forward, Warren heard a familiar, coarse, whining voice behind
him. He looked; and as he did so, he was conscious of Ivan who, with the
quickness of a bird, slipped between two people, and was out of sight.
Instantly Warren followed him. They met behind a truck loaded with
boxes.
Warren was shaking. "Did you see?" he asked.
"Yes," said Ivan in a low voice. "Elinor and Rika, too! What are we
going to do?"
"I don't know," said Warren. "Just do what we have to do when the time
comes. Don't risk them another hour. Elinor looks half dead. Keep out of
sight and watch for a chance. Don't let the girls see you, any more than
the women. They would give it away, sure. Come on!"
He slipped quickly through the crowd, only a boy, and unnoticed. Behind,
at his heels, came a thin lad, soiled and ragged. It was Prince Ivan,
Prince of one of the greatest houses in Warsaw, but his own father would
not have recognized him. Together they slyly watched the two women in
front of them who, each with a child, begged pitifully of the travelers.
The woman who had Rika held her in her arms, but poor little Elinor, on
foot, reached a tiny hand toward the passing throng, and fearfully
glanced at her ugly jailer as she did so.
The train remained on the track. It was evidently going to make up a
section. The women wandered here and there, and finally approached a big
packing case near the station door. Here they stood, evidently
consulting. One woman slyly, showed the other a handkerchief full of
kopeks. Then while the boys scarcely dared to breathe, they seated the
two children on the box, and with a fearful threat which caused the face
of Elinor to turn even paler, they hurried into the waiting room, and
turned towards the ticket window.
"Now!" said Warren, "and be quick!"
He ran up to the children, and taking his sister in his arms, pressed
his hand over her mouth until he had spoken a word in her ear. Then
followed by Ivan carrying Rika, he walked steadily round the corner of
the platform.
Before him stood the roadster, with the Red Cross flag. Without an
instant's hesitation, he slipped into the driver's seat, Elinor still in
his arms. He thrust her between his knees, as Ivan took the other seat,
and tucked little Rika out of sight in the same manner.
As he did so, they heard a series of hoarse screams, and the two women,
beating the air and wringing their hands, came rushing around the
corner. Warren started the car full speed, and they started with a jerk
that almost threw them out. Looking behind, Ivan saw the women point to
the car and to his dismay a soldier on a motorcycle jumped from his
machine and ran up to them. As the car sped down the long avenue, Ivan
saw a last glimpse of the man returning to his machine. They were
followed.
"They are after us!" he said to Warren.
"What with?" asked Warren, his eyes on the road. "There was no other
machine."
"A soldier on a motorcycle. Make the first turn you can."
Warren whipped the little racer round one curve and then another. He was
thinking deeply.
Elinor commenced to cry.
"Don't let them get me, Warry!" she begged.
"You are all right, dear," he answered. Then to Ivan:
"I have it. Didn't you say you knew that Princess what-is-her-name that
owns this car?"
"Yes, a little," said Ivan.
"Well, you could make her recognize whose son you are, couldn't you?"
"Of course!" said Ivan.
"Well," said Warren, "we can't get anywhere with the car, and the only
thing for us to do is to go to the hospital as quickly as we can, and
you get hold of that Princess, and do some explaining. You see she
stands in with both sides because of the hospital. It's her own sister's
house, isn't it?"
"Yes," said Ivan, "and that's the only thing to do. This is a Red Cross
car now, and there will be a big fuss about it."
"Where are we, anyway?" said Warren, slowing down to regulation speed.
"Turn to your left and ahead for three blocks, then once to the right,
and you will see the palace in the distance," said Ivan.
They swept on, reached the marble steps of the building, stopped the
car, and Warren leaped to the ground.
He looked at his little sister. He could not speak, but held out his
arms, and she sprang into them. She clung to him trembling, and calling
his name over and over while he pressed kisses on her pale little
cheeks. With Ivan still holding Rika, they hurried up the steps just as
the soldier on the motorcycle whirled to the curb.
He leaped from his seat and followed them, talking furiously in German,
but the boys were so close to the open door that they slipped inside
before the man could lay a hand on them. A nurse came up and a doctor,
and the boys commenced, both at once, one in Polish and the other in
English, to explain matters. The doctor looked grave. No one would dream
that the two thin, pale, ragged little girls were anything but the
beggars they looked to be, and the doctor shook his head.
Ivan stamped his foot. "I want the Princess!" he said. "She will
straighten this out. Send someone for the Princess!" he demanded.
"I think she is out," said the nurse; "but I will send." She gave a
message to an assistant, and they waited in silence while the girl was
gone. She returned in a moment.
"The Princess is not here," she said, "but Madame, her sister, is
coming." As she spoke, the door opened, and the lovely face of Princess
Olga appeared.
"What is the trouble?" she asked of the doctor, and glanced at the group
before her.
One low cry she gave; one spring, and little Rika was folded to her
breast. The baby arms were close around her neck, the little face hidden
while the Princess murmured loving names and strained the little form
close to her heart.
Warren was the first to speak. He turned to Ivan.
"Well, what do you know about that?" he said solemnly in English.
The doctor turned to Ivan and plied him with questions.
Presently the Princess looked up.
"Who are you?" she asked, noting the pale child at his side.
"My name is Morris, Warren Morris," said Warren. He would have explained
farther, but the Princess, rising, lifted her head and looking
reverently up, said simply, "God is good! Come with me!" Imperiously she
led the way down the great hall, now full of cots, and to a narrow door.
She opened this and pushed Warren through ahead of her.
And Evelyn, poor heart-broken Evelyn, saw him as he came. Then she had
him in her arms; and for once Warren could not kiss her enough or hug
her hard enough. But he had to be shared with Elinor who commenced to
look happy once more.
"Where is father?" asked Warren doubtfully, when Evelyn seemed assured
that he was real, and that she actually had Elinor back again.
"Out with the Princess," said Evelyn. Then for the first time she
noticed that the Princess was gone, and the door shut, and they were
alone.
"Warren, you must be very good to father," said Evelyn gently. "He has
suffered more than I ever knew anyone could. He takes all the blame for
everything."
"Well,--" said Warren stubbornly, "a lot of it has been his fault."
"That doesn't matter now," said Evelyn. "Father is not to blame for the
forgetfulness and selfishness in his work that we find so hard to bear.
His parents are the ones to blame. They thought because he was such a
bright child that everything should be made secondary to his needs. And
then our dear mother went right on spoiling him. So now we, who are his
children, can't expect to make him over. We have just got to remember
that he is a truly great man--in his own line, and we are very proud of
him. We are older now, and things won't be so hard for us."
"You bet we are older!" said Warren. "I don't expect to feel any older
when I am ninety than I do now. But you are right about father. I have
felt pretty sore, sis, I confess, and when I thought you were dead, and
Elinor lost for good, it didn't seem as though I could forgive him. You
are right about his people. Folks have no right to let a kid run the
whole place like that, even if it is to develop his brain. I'll tell you
one thing, if ever I have any kids of my own, I'm going to bring them up
after a plan of my own."
Evelyn smiled. "I hope it will work, Warry," she said.
Warren looked savage. "It will, you can bet," he said. "I will make them
go to school, of course, but they will begin to qualify for the Boy
Scouts when they are about three years old; and they will learn to
shoot, and know first aid when they are about four, and a lot of other
things when they are five or so."
Evelyn groaned. "I'm sorry for those children, Warren," she laughed.
"Well, perhaps I will give them a little more time, but they have got to
understand that efficiency is as necessary when they are sixteen as when
they are sixty. Do you remember those chaps we saw in Switzerland? They
were way up in their studies. You know I went to school with a fellow
one day, but when school was out they were doing things worth while. And
the fellow I knew had the dandiest rifle I ever saw. He said it was a
prize from the government for target shooting. And he knew how to handle
that gun, too. He said there was a fine for carelessness with firearms.
"Then these Germans. I've seen dozens of fellows no older than I am.
They are hard as nails and fit every minute. Say, what's father going to
do?" he demanded. "Are we going to spend our lives here, or are we going
home?"
"Father does not know yet that you are here, you know," Evelyn reminded
him. "He ought to be here soon now."
"Let's get him to go home as soon as we can," said Warren.
"I've seen about all I can stand of these horrors." He put his arm
around Evelyn's shoulders and embraced both dear sisters.
"Evelyn, we will never be the same children again," he said sadly. "Oh,
I'm homesick for America! I want to go home to Princeton. I want to have
it come Fourth of July and hear the crackers go off and see the flag
hanging out of store windows, and upside down and wrong side to on
people's lawns the way they most always hang it. I want to hooray for
'Mericky.' I am dead, dead sick of this, sissy. I want to go where I
belong."
"Poor old Warren!" said Evelyn. "I know how you feel. I want to go, too.
But you can't shake the dust of Europe off like that, you know. We have
made friends, good friends here, and you will have to keep in touch with
the Polish Boy Scouts. You can't shirk that, you know."
"No, of course not," agreed Warren. "I just want to go home and soak up
on America for awhile. I've got a lot of things to tell those fellows,
too!" he said solemnly.
"Well, we could go right away if father is willing, and if we could get
passports and transportation," said Evelyn. "Only I've got to go back
and get the baby."
"The WHAT!" shouted Warren.
"Why, the baby," said Evelyn. "The baby you brought me; the one you
brought me from its dead mother."
"Sure enough!" said Warren. "Well, where is it, anyway?"
"Back in Warsaw," said Evelyn. "I left it with the woman who lived in
the corner house. When the soldiers took us away, she came out to see
what the disturbance was, and she offered to keep the baby."
"A baby!" said Warren. "So you are going to take it home! Well, that
does seem almost the last straw! You don't suppose your friend in Warsaw
would like to keep it?"
"No, I don't," said Evelyn firmly. "That woman has six, and her husband
was killed, and she is ruined. She will have hard enough work feeding
her own. She is an angel to keep it so, long. We have dozens of
relatives over home, and they are all going to have the privilege of
helping to care for our little war baby. I shall name her for the
Princess."
"All right," said Warren. He went to the window and looked out. "I wish
father would come," he said. "Is Jack with him? Suppose I go and look
for them?"
"You will stay right here," said Evelyn. "I don't want one of you out of
my sight from now on. Jack is with father. They went out to go to the
market. Father has been helping a lot here. He has given the hospital
all sorts of things that were badly needed. The Princess will send him
in as soon as she comes. Isn't it like a fairy tale to think that we had
little Rika all the time?"
"I wish you would begin at the beginning and tell me all that happened
after you were arrested," said Warren. "I have had such a lot of
scraps."
"All right," said Evelyn. She looked down at the little sister in her
arms. "See," she said, "she has gone to sleep. The darling is
exhausted."
Warren looked grave. "She has had the worst experience of all," he said.
"We won't know for a good while just what she has undergone. I would not
want to question her. It will have to come out in bits. And I think the
baby will be a good thing after all. It will help occupy Elinor's
attention and make her forget. Yes, we have got to get out of here as
soon as we can on her account. Now go on."
Evelyn cuddled the sleeping child more closely, and commencing at the
moment when the soldiers broke down the door, she told her brother the
thrilling and almost unbelievable story of their adventure. Finally she
reached the end. Warren had made no comments, but the stern and anxious
expression of his face betrayed his feelings. Evelyn paused.
"And to think that I was right on the other side of that door when you
were crying yesterday! Poor little sister, I hope you will never, never
have to cry for me again."
There was a sound of rapid steps at the door. It was flung open and Jack
rushed in, closely followed by the Professor.
Trouble and danger and separation change our viewpoint. There had been a
time not long past when Warren regarded any demonstration of affection
as unmanly, but now he found himself in his father's arms and only too
glad to be there.