"It won't take long to dispose of this fellow, Hal," said Chester significantly.

"Perhaps not," replied Hal, "but you know there is always the chance that you may fall. Then they would probably drag me into it, and, if I went down, what would happen to the document we bear?"

"That's true," said Chester. He turned to his adversary. "Is it understood," he asked, "that, if I fall, there is an end of the quarrel?"

The Frenchman bowed in assent.

"And if you kill me," he said, "my friends will not molest you."

"Well, that suits me," said Chester. "Where and when are we going to fight this thing out?"

"Immediately," was the reply; "and, with our host's permission, we shall fight right here, monsieur."

"Any place suits me," said Chester. "And the weapons?"

"The choice lies with you, monsieur."

"Very good," said Chester. "Revolvers at ten paces!"

"Ten paces!" exclaimed one of the Frenchmen, stepping back in surprise. "Surely monsieur is jesting!"

"Not a bit of it," replied Chester quietly. "I want to get close enough to make sure I can't miss him."

"But, monsieur," protested one of the Frenchmen, "it will make it that much easier for your opponent to hit you also."

"He won't hit me," said Chester. "Don't you worry about that. Revolvers at ten paces, or there will be no fight."

The French officer who had volunteered to act as the other's second bowed.

"It shall be as monsieur desires," he said.

The revolvers of the others, which had covered Hal, were now lowered, and the lad was allowed to pick up his weapons. He approached Chester.

"Are you sure you can get him?" he asked.

"Dead certain," replied Chester. "Look at him now. See how he's shaking. It's the ten paces that did that. He knows I can't possibly miss him at that distance, and he is consequently nervous for fear his first shot may go wild."

There was truth in the lad's words. Chester's antagonist was plainly nervous, and he and his second talked together in low tones. Finally the second came over to Hal.

"My friend," he said, "wishing to spare your friend's life, is willing to accept his apology."

"There'll be no apology," growled Chester, who had overheard this remark.

"But the ten paces, monsieur," protested the Frenchman. "It will be murder. My friend is a crack shot. At the distance he cannot miss. He would give your friend a chance for his life by lengthening the distance."

"Ten paces or nothing," replied Hal.

The Frenchman bowed and returned to his principal. They conversed in low tones, and finally the second announced that the terms were satisfactory.

As the two principals came together Hal perceived a peculiar gleam in the eye of the Frenchman, and realized in a moment that Chester's antagonist had some scheme up his sleeve. Hal thought rapidly, and then drew a breath of relief. He believed he had solved the Frenchman's plan and he determined to thwart it.

The two principals, according to the arrangements made, were to stand back to back, and, at the count of three, each take five steps, turn and fire at will. Each weapon had been carefully examined by both seconds and all cartridges removed but two. Consequently, each was to be allowed two shots, if necessary, and, in the event that neither fell, honor was to be declared appeased. It was also stipulated that should one of the principals fire before he had taken five paces he should be shot down by the other's second.

The seconds were the only two permitted to have arms besides the principals. Hal had insisted upon this, and, accordingly, the others turned their weapons over to the proprietor, who, at Hal's command, had taken them to the next room.

Chester and his opponent stood back to back, and Hal, who had called the toss of a coin, began to count:

"One! Two! Three!"

At the word Chester and the French officer who had stood in the center of the room walked slowly away from each other with measured stride.

Two steps, three, four, the young Frenchman took, and then wheeled suddenly and brought his revolver to bear upon the back of his antagonist, who was taking the full five strides. The Frenchman's finger tightened on the trigger.

But Hal had been watching him like a hawk. His quick mind had detected the treachery of the Frenchman before the two had taken their places, and he held his own revolver ready, as did the Frenchman's second.

As the Frenchman wheeled suddenly, upon his fourth step, and his finger pressed the trigger, Hal's own weapon spoke suddenly. With a cry the Frenchman threw up both hands, and pitched to the floor on his face.

The next moment Hal's revolver covered the Frenchman's second, before the latter could raise his own weapon—had such been his intention—and in a stern voice the lad cried:

"So this is French bravery, eh? You shoot men in the back! No wonder your principal agreed upon ten paces."

Chester, having wheeled quickly at his fifth step, took in the situation at a glance, and his revolver covered the other French officers. One of the latter, raising a hand, stepped forward.

"Monsieur," he said quietly to Chester, "I would have you believe that neither I nor my friends had a hand in this. Had we known what our friend contemplated, we would not have allowed the duel to proceed."

Chester glanced at the Frenchman keenly for a moment, then lowered his revolver.

"I believe you," he said simply.

Hal also now lowered the weapon with which he had covered the Frenchman's second, and the latter also made profuse protests of innocence, which both lads believed to be true. Then he bent over Chester's late antagonist.

"He is still alive," he said, looking up after an examination. "The bullet struck him in the chest. With proper attention he will recover." He approached Chester and held out his hand. "I regret this unpleasant incident exceedingly," he said. "I trust you will absolve us from blame."

"Of course," said Chester, grasping the outstretched hand. "I would be loath to believe that all Frenchmen are not true soldiers and honorable gentlemen."

Hal also shook hands all around with the young Frenchmen, and a few moments later announced that they must be on their way. The Frenchmen escorted them to their car, which was now ready and waiting for them, and, as Hal sent it forward with a lurch, they sped the lads on their way with rousing cheers.

"By Jove! That was a pretty narrow squeak!" Chester called over Hal's shoulder, as the car swept from the little city of Nanteul and sped on across the open country. "If you hadn't been on the alert I would be with the angels now."

"I don't know how I came to suspect him," replied Hal, also raising his voice to a shout, to make himself heard above the roaring of the flying automobile. "Something seemed to tell me he was up to some deviltry, and I figured it out before you took your places. So, when he turned before time, I was ready for him."

"And a good thing for me that you were," Chester muttered to himself.

The car sped on.

Through Dammartin they dashed with slightly diminished speed, and, bearing off a trifle to the north, passed through St. Gonesse. Ten minutes later they came within sight of Paris and Hal slowed down.

"Well, I guess we won't have any more trouble before we get to Paris," he said. "I judge that we are on the outskirts now."

The car continued at a more moderate gait. Passing vehicles became more frequent now, and the lad was forced to go very slowly in some places to avoid dense crowds of pedestrians and troops.

"Where are we going to find the Prime Minister, Hal?" asked Chester.

"By Jove! I hadn't thought of that!" exclaimed Hal. "We'll have to find out."

They were in the very heart of the city now. Hal brought the car to a stand, near one of the city's police officers and accosted the latter in French.

"We bear a communication from General Joffre to the Prime Minister," he said. "Can you tell us where to find him? We are strangers in the city."

The policeman was very polite. He signaled another officer, who was passing, and repeated Hal's request. The latter immediately climbed into the car beside Hal.

"I happen to know," he said, "that the Prime Minister at the present moment is at the Chamber of Deputies, where he is making an address. If your business is important, no doubt you will be permitted to see him as soon as he has concluded."

He pointed out the way, and Hal drove the car slowly along the streets. They drew up at last before an imposing building, which, the policeman informed them, was where the Chamber of Deputies sat. The lads alighted and ascended the steps.

At the entrance they were stopped by a soldier, who demanded their business.

"We bear a message from General Joffre to the Prime Minister," said Hal.

The soldier summoned an officer, to whom Hal repeated their errand. The latter motioned the lads to follow him, and showed them into a waiting-room and took his departure, ordering them to wait.

"The Prime Minister has concluded his address," he told them. "I shall take your message."

Half an hour later a man appeared in the doorway. He was slender and rather tall. "Lieutenants Paine and Crawford?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," replied the lads, getting to their feet.

"I," said the newcomer, "am the Prime Minister."



CHAPTER XX.

AN UNEXPECTED MEETING.

Hal and Chester made a profound bow.

"I have been informed," continued the Prime Minister, "that you bear a message from General Joffre containing proof of information you obtained bearing on a plot to kidnap the President of France."

"Yes, sir," replied Hal, and from his pocket produced the document, which he passed to the Prime Minister.

The latter broke the seal and ran through it hurriedly.

"Hm-m-m," he said at last. "Not as much information as I believe we shall need."

"But surely you know enough to protect the President," said Hal.

The Prime Minister looked at him somewhat coldly, and Hal drew back, confused at having been so bold. The Prime Minister touched a bell upon a desk and an attendant entered.

"Have General Gallieni summoned here immediately," he instructed.

The attendant bowed and departed. For half an hour the Prime Minister paced up and down the room, deep in thought. The lads stood silent, neither caring to interrupt his meditations. Finally the attendant again entered the room, and announced:

"General Gallieni!"

A short, squat man, attired in a brilliant red-and-blue uniform, with medals flashing upon his breast, strode into the room and came to attention before the Prime Minister.

"You summoned me, sir?"

"Yes, General. These," indicating Hal and Chester, "are the two officers who overheard the plot to kidnap President Poincare. I have called you here that you may hear their story at first hand." He turned to the two lads. "This," he said, "is General Gallieni, military governor of Paris. You will repeat to him what you overheard."

In a few brief words Hal did so, and, when he had concluded the Prime Minister passed the message from General Joffre to General Gallieni. The latter ran his eye over it quickly, and for some moments thereafter was silent.

"And you say that this plot was to be carried out in the event that the German offensive failed?" he asked at length.

"Such is my understanding, sir," replied Hal.

"And you say a German agent is supposed to have been in communication with Pierre Duval, recognized as King of the Apaches?"

"Yes, sir."

General Gallieni turned to the Prime Minister.

"I have made inquiries," he said, "and I have learned enough to substantiate this story. We can, of course, foil the plot with ease, but that is not enough."

"No," the Prime Minister agreed, "that is not enough."

"We must apprehend Duval himself," continued the military governor.

"Exactly," said the Prime Minister, "and with him sufficient of his men to cause the others to realize that when they plot treason to France their necks are in jeopardy."

"Precisely," agreed General Gallieni. "But this Duval is a slippery fellow and hard to catch. I have learned that, unlike other Apaches, he comes of better blood; in fact, is supposed to be a gentleman. But, beyond this, I have learned nothing except the existence of the plot to kidnap the President."

"But the police and the secret service men," said the Prime Minister, "haven't they been able—"

"The police and secret service men, bah!" interrupted General Gallieni. "They have learned nothing. Their faces are so familiar to the denizens of the underworld as to make them absolutely useless. I have set some of my officers on the trail, but they seem to have met with no better luck. No; we must have men whose identities cannot be so easily established; strangers, say, who are willing to risk their lives by going into the haunts of the Apaches, and, perhaps, putting themselves in their power."

"Then, sir," said Chester, taking a step forward, "you need seek no further. My friend and I shall be glad to undertake the work."

"You!" exclaimed the Prime Minister, starting back in surprise. "Why, you are nothing but boys."

"True," said Hal, somewhat nettled, "but more than once we have accomplished men's work."

General Gallieni looked at them long and carefully. Then he once more turned his eyes upon the contents of General Joffre's message.

"General Joffre," he said quietly, "speaks highly of you both. He says that you are to be trusted implicitly and he appears to have great confidence in your resourcefulness. Upon his recommendation I should say that, if you are willing to undertake the work, you would come as near bringing it to a successful termination as any men we might find."

"Thank you, sir," said Hal quietly. "We are both willing and eager to make the attempt."

"Then," said the general, "we shall consider the matter settled."

"But," protested the Prime Minister, "it seems to me that they are much too young to be allowed to assume such a risk."

"From General Joffre's letter," remarked the military governor of Paris dryly, "I should say that they have already assumed risks every whit as great." He turned again to Hal and Chester. "Do you know anything of the Apaches of Paris?" he asked.

"Only what we have read," replied Chester. "I should say that they are of the lowest possible order of criminals."

"You are entirely right," replied General Gallieni. "The Apaches of Paris have not acquired an undeserved reputation. There is no crime on the calendar they would not commit for a few cents. From petty thievery to murder they have advanced by degrees, until to-day the life of a person who ventures among them is not worth a cent, should they believe he had a franc in his pocket.

"The Apaches infest the poorer sections of the city, notably the banks of the Seine and portions of the Quartier Latin. They seldom venture from their own haunts, and, like cats, do most of their prowling and evil deeds during the darkest hours of the night. Nowhere in the world is there a more villainous band of cutthroats. You would think that, in times like these they would rally to the support of their country, but they have not. And now comes this plot to turn their President over to the enemy."

The lads had listened with great interest to this account of the men, in whose midst they had volunteered to risk their lives. They realized the danger that confronted them in such a venture, but neither was minded to give it up because of this.

"Well, we shall have to be careful, sir," said Hal. "We will dress poorly and will show no money. If you will put us on the right road I am sure that we shall learn something of value in the course of a day or two."

"It is still not too late to draw out," said the general, eying them closely.

"Well, we won't draw out," said Hal quietly.

"I should say not," agreed Chester.

"Report to me to-night at my quarters in the Hotel de Ville, say at 9 o'clock, and I will give you your directions and what other information I can that will be of service to you. In the meantime, I would advise that you seek rest, for you are likely to need it."

The military governor took his departure, and soon the lads also left the presence of the Prime Minister, who had directed them to a hotel nearby.

In this little hotel, clean and comfortable, the lads sent out and procured some old clothes that would give them the appearance of dire poverty. Then they examined and cleaned their automatics and laid in an extra supply of cartridges.

"Well, I guess that's about all we can do till to-night," said Hal. "Let's get a little sleep."

"My sentiments exactly," said Chester.

It was perhaps 4 o'clock in the afternoon when they arose. Outside the sun was shining brightly.

"By Jove!" said Chester. "This is too nice a day to remain in the hotel. Let's take a walk."

"Agreed," said Hal.

They left the hotel, and for an hour strolled about the city, looking at the sights of interest.

"By the way," said Chester, "what's this Hotel de Ville where we are to report to General Gallieni to-night?"

"Why," said Hal, "that's the city hall, or at least what we would call the city hall in America. I suppose that when Paris was put under martial law the military governor, who, of course, superseded all civic authorities, at once took up his quarters there."

"I see," said Chester.

Strolling along Bois de Boulougne, the lads saw, some distance ahead of them, a crowd gathered about what appeared to be a knot of struggling men. They hurried up and peered over the shoulders of the other onlookers.

In the center of the throng was a young man, defending himself as best he could, against the attacks of half a dozen smaller assailants, young rowdies and ruffians.

Even as the lads looked the assailed snatched a club from the hands of one of his opponents, and laid about him lustily, clearing a small space on all sides of him.

But the weight of numbers was bound to tell, and the assailants closed in again, while the crowd stood and laughed.

Such unequal odds did not appeal to the two lads.

"Come on, Hal," said Chester. "We can't stand idly by and let that crowd of ruffians beat that fellow up."

"I should say not," said Hal. "Come on."

Elbowing and shoving, the lads forced their way through the crowd and fell upon the assailants from the rear. The young man to whose assistance they had come welcomed this unexpected aid with a slight smile, and the three stood side by side and fought off the ruffians.

But the ranks of the latter were increased now, and the lads were hard pressed. They were giving a good account of themselves, but it was evident that, unless help arrived, they would get the worst of it.

Suddenly a tall man in a heavy fur overcoat, who had alighted from an automobile to see what the excitement was about, after a quick glance at the combatants, uttered a cry and dashed forward, elbowing his way through the crowd.

Hal and Chester each felt himself seized by the shoulder by a strong hand, and a voice exclaimed:

"So! I have found you young scalawags at last!"

At the sound of this voice Hal and Chester stood stockstill, and from the crowd came the cry of: "The police!"

Hal glanced quickly into the face of the man who held him and his chum firmly by the arm. The face was set in a stern expression, but there was a kindly smile behind it and the eyes twinkled.

Chester voiced his astonishment with two words.

"Uncle John!" he cried.



CHAPTER XXI.

OTHER RELATIVES.

"Mr. Crawford!" cried Hal, equally as surprised.

For the man who held the two lads in a vise-like grip was the brother of Chester's father, whom they had last seen in America.

Uncle John smiled grimly.

"Yes, it's me," he said, paying no heed to his slip in grammar, "and now that I've found you I am going to take you with me."

Still grasping each by the shoulder, he led them through the crowd and pushed them into the waiting automobile. He then gave the driver an address and climbed in himself. The machine started off.

"Now," said Uncle John, settling himself comfortably, "tell me where you have been. Both your mothers are frantic, and they set me a strenuous job when they turned me loose on your trail. I have been looking for you for months. Where have you been, and what are you doing in those French uniforms?"

"But where is mother?" asked Hal.

"You'll see her soon enough," was the grim response, "and yours, too," he added, turning to Chester.

"Is mother here in Paris?" asked Chester.

"She is; you'll be with her in fifteen minutes."

"And mine, too?" asked Hal.

"Yes; now tell me about yourselves."

"Well," said Chester, "there is not much to tell. I suppose Mrs. Paine told you how we became separated in Berlin?"

"Yes."

"Well, we managed to escape from Germany and made our way to Liege just before the German assault on that fortress."

"And were you there during its defense?" asked Uncle John in surprise.

"Yes, we were there. We were fortunate enough to render the Belgian commander some slight service, for which we were later made lieutenants in the Belgian army."

"Lieutenants!" ejaculated Uncle John.

"Yes."

"Then what are you doing in French uniforms?"

"I am coming to that. Later we saw service with the British troops, and also with the Cossacks in Russia. We were captured several days ago by the Germans, and we donned these uniforms when we finally got into the French lines. To-day we came to Paris with a communication from General Joffre for the Prime Minister."

Uncle John sat straight up in his seat during this recital, so great was his surprise.

"And you have gone through all this unwounded?" he asked.

"Well, no," said Chester; "we have both been wounded, but we are all right now."

"And to-night," said Hal, "we have further work to do."

"Well," said Uncle John grimly, "I think your fighting days are over."

"Over!" echoed both lads in consternation.

"Yes. You will accompany us back to the United States the day after to-morrow. In the meantime I shall make it my business to see that you stay in the hotel and are not allowed to go gallivanting about."

"It can't be done, Uncle John," said Chester quietly. "We have duties to perform."

"So you have," returned Uncle John, "and the chief one is to return home where you belong."

Chester was about to reply, but thought better of it, and remained silent. At Uncle John's request, Hal filled in the details of their adventures, and, as the account progressed, Uncle John became more and more surprised.

At length the machine drew up in front of one of the largest hotels in the city and the three alighted and went in. Five minutes later Chester was in the arms of his mother and Hal was in the arms of his. Both mothers wept tears of joy at having their sons with them again.

"We'll go home immediately," said Mrs. Paine.

"On the first steamer," agreed Mrs. Crawford.

"I'll go now and see about accommodations," said Uncle John.

He left the room.

"I am sorry, mother," said Hal, "but we cannot go home now."

"Cannot go home!" exclaimed Mrs. Paine. "Why?"

"Because we have duties to perform here," replied Hal quietly.

"Duties? What have you to do with this war? You are an American."

"Nevertheless," said Hal, "we have taken the oath of allegiance, and we must stay, at least until we have accomplished the mission we are now on."

"What is the mission?" asked his mother.

"I am sorry, mother, but I cannot say," was Hal's reply.

"Is it dangerous?"

"Well, not particularly so," said Hal.

"And you won't tell me what it is?"

"I cannot. It is not my secret to tell. It belongs to France."

"In that event," said Mrs. Paine, who had been a soldier's wife, "I will not press you."

"Thank you, mother," said Hal gratefully.

A similar conversation had ensued between Chester and Mrs. Crawford, with like result.

"But, if we let you go on this mission, will you then return home?" asked Mrs. Crawford.

"We can't promise, mother," said Chester.

"Then," said Mrs. Crawford, "I shall not permit you to go."

Chester made no reply to this.

Mrs. Paine also refused her consent unless Hal would promise to return home after the termination of the mission on which they were now engaged, and Hal would make no such promise.

An hour later Uncle John returned and to him the two mothers told their troubles.

"Well," said Uncle John calmly, "I'll fix 'em."

It was now after six o'clock, and all descended to dinner. The meal over, Uncle John called the two lads into his own room. Motioning them to seats, he stepped out the door, and quickly turned the key in the lock.

"Now," he said from the outside, "we shall see whether you'll stay or not."

Hal and Chester looked at each other in dismay.

"Great Scott!" cried the latter. "What are we going to do now?"

Hal looked at his watch.

"After seven o'clock," he said. "We haven't much time."

He looked about the room, and his eye fell upon the telephone. Quickly he stepped forward and placed the receiver to his ear. After some questioning he turned to Hal with a smile.

"I guess it's all right now," he said.

"What are you trying to do?" asked Chester.

"You'll see," said Hal.

He turned to the telephone.

"I wish to speak with General Gallieni," he said. "Tell him it is the party he is expecting to-night at nine. All right." He was silent a moment, then spoke again: "General Gallieni?"

"Yes," came the reply over the wire.

"This is Lieutenant Paine, whom you are depending on for to-night. We are prisoners in room number 257," and Hal gave the name of the hotel.

"What!" came the surprised reply. "By whom are you being held?"

"By our uncle. Cannot you send a detachment of soldiers with orders to take us before you at once?"

Hal heard a slight chuckle wafted over the wire.

"It shall be done," came the reply, and the military governor of Paris rang off.

Hal turned to Chester with a smile.

"I guess that will fix it," he said.

"Well, I should say so," said Chester. "But what will Uncle John and our mothers think when we are dragged away, apparently as prisoners?"

"I don't know what they'll think," said Hal, "but we are in honor bound to see this thing through, and we must not let sentiment stand in the way."

"I guess you are right," said Chester slowly, after a moment's hesitation.

"I know I am," said Hal, and so the matter rested.

It was nearly eight o'clock, as Hal perceived by a glance at his watch, when the heavy sound of tramping feet became audible in the hall.

"Room 257," came a voice from without.

There was a loud rap on the door.

"Who's there?" called Hal, thinking to keep up the deception.

"Open the door in the name of the law!" came back the response.

From an adjoining room Mrs. Paine, Mrs. Crawford and Uncle John were startled by the pounding on the door, and looked into the hall just as the above conversation through the door took place. Uncle John immediately stepped forward.

"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded.

The French officer turned upon him.

"None of your business," he replied. He turned and rapped on the door again. "Open the door," he commanded, "or I shall break it in."

"Hold on there!" said Uncle John. "I have the key to the door. Tell me what you want with those young men and I'll unlock the door."

"I am ordered to take them before General Gallieni at once," said the officer more civilly.

"The military governor!" exclaimed Uncle John.

"Exactly, monsieur," said the officer, "and now, as you have the key, will you please to unlock the door immediately?"

"But what does the general want with them?" asked Uncle John anxiously.

"I cannot say," was the reply. "Will you unlock the door or shall I be compelled to use force?"

Without further words Uncle John unlocked the door, and the officer, followed by two of his men, strode in. They approached the two lads.

"You are under arrest," said the officer briefly.

Mrs. Paine and Mrs. Crawford attempted to reach their sons, but the soldiers barred their progress.

"Don't worry, mother," said Hal, as they were led by, and he smiled.

Uncle John caught the smile and a great light dawned upon him.

"Well, by George!" he said to himself, "I didn't think they had it in 'em."

He allayed the fears of the anxious mothers by telling them what he had discovered.



CHAPTER XXII.

INTO THE UNDERWORLD.

Hal did not see the look of understanding upon Uncle John's face, as they were led along, but Chester did. He smiled to himself.

"Uncle John has caught on," he said to his friend.

"Caught on?" echoed Hal.

"Yes. He knows that we have hoodwinked him."

"So much the better, then," said Hal. "It will save our mothers some worry." He turned to the officer who conducted them as soon as they were out on the street. "It's all right now," he said. "We can go the rest of the way alone."

"Perhaps you can," was the reply, "but you won't. You'll come right along with us."

"But," protested the lad, "we must first go to our other hotel and get the clothes we have secured for our work."

"You will have to talk to General Gallieni about that," said the officer gruffly.

"But General Gallieni knows all about our plans."

"Does he? I'm not so sure. However, I guess he will before long?"

"Look here," said Hal, "what's the matter with you?"

"Come, now," said the officer, "that's enough of that. March."

Chester broke into a laugh, and Hal glanced at him in surprise.

"What are you laughing at?" he demanded.

"Why," said Chester, "I am laughing because you can't see through this."

"Is that so?" said Hal, somewhat nettled. "Perhaps you can see through it?"

"Of course," said Chester. "General Gallieni simply sent this squad after us. He didn't explain the situation to the officer."

"By Jove!" said Hal. "Now, why didn't I think of that? It's plain enough, now that you speak of it."

They marched along in silence, and soon were ushered into the presence of General Gallieni. The latter dismissed the other officers with a wave of his hand and turned to the lads.

"Well, I see you escaped," he said, with a semblance of a smile on his grim features.

"Yes, sir; thanks to you, sir," said Hal, also smiling.

"Thank yourselves," said the general. "It took some resourcefulness to think of such a plan. It proves to me that you can use your heads. I am, therefore, more confident that you may be successful in your desperate work."

Hal and Chester were greatly flattered by this high praise, but they simply saluted and said:

"Thank you, sir."

"Now," said the general, "you may as well go about the work at once. Further delay is useless. But you cannot go in those uniforms. Didn't you lay in some other clothes, as you suggested?"

"We did, sir," replied Hal, "but the officer who conducted us here wouldn't let us go after them."

"True," said the general. "I didn't explain the situation to him, because I feared that he might possibly give the coup away. Perhaps I can fix you up here, however."

He struck a little bell on his desk a sharp tap. Immediately an orderly entered and to him the general spoke briefly. The orderly saluted and departed, returning a few moments later with a bundle of ragged clothing.

"You may go into the next room and change," said the general, and the lads hastened to obey.

Ten minutes later, dirty, ragged and unkempt, they once more stood before General Gallieni. The latter surveyed them critically.

"You'll do," he said at last, with an approving nod. "Now—are you armed?"

"Two automatics each, sir, and a good supply of cartridges," said Hal.

"Bien! Here," the general handed each a little silver whistle, "should you ever be in a tight place and in need of assistance, blow these, and, if help is near, you will get it."

The lads shoved the whistles out of sight in the clothes.

"I guess that is about all," said the general. "Remember, the main thing I want is Duval. Establish his true identity and learn where he can be found and you will have done enough. The rest of the work will be for other hands. By the way, if I were you, I would go first to the Quartier Latin, and loiter about there. You know where it is?"

"No, sir," said Hal.

The general gave them the necessary directions and then rose.

"That is all," he said, and the lads, realizing that their interview was at an end, saluted and took their departure.

For an hour they walked along the streets, and at last found themselves in the midst of the Latin Quarter of the French capital. Here they saw many others of their own apparent ilk, dressed in rags, dirty, and carrying a certain hangdog and famished look.

"Guess we are in the right place," said Hal to Chester in a low voice.

"Looks like it," said Hal, "but the question is, how are we going to find out anything?"

"We'll have to trust to luck," said Chester.

But Dame Fortune smiled upon them sooner than they could possibly have anticipated, and it came about in this wise:

As the lads walked slowly along they were attracted by a terrible din and confusion in the distance. They stopped for a moment and listened and then went forward swiftly.

Rounding a corner into a dark side street they came abruptly upon the scene of the confusion. A dirty little street Arab was defending himself with bravery and skill against an overwhelming number of other rowdies. The little fellow was fighting with tooth, nail and foot, but in spite of his agility and stubbornness, he was getting the worst of the encounter.

He went down and the others piled on top of him.

"Come on, Hal," exclaimed Chester, "let's give the fellow a hand."

"All right," agreed the latter; "but, remember, no guns. It would give us away."

They dashed quickly forward, and, striking out right and left, cleared a path for themselves and were soon at the side of the fallen man. While Hal stood off the enemy Chester bent down and lifted the little man to his feet. The latter recognized the touch of a friendly hand and quickly jumped up.

"Thanks," he said briefly, and jumped to Hal's side to renew the encounter.

Chester sprang forward with him. And these reenforcements reached Hal none too soon, for he was being sorely pressed by his foes. One of the enemy, making a slight detour, suddenly launched himself headlong at Hal, and came down on his shoulder, and with his talon-like fingers clawed at the lad's face.

With a quick twist of his arm the lad succeeded in catching his opponent by the throat, and, exerting great pressure with his other arm, bore upward heavily. There was a choking screech from the man and he lay limp in Hal's arms. Then the lad, raising him at arm's length, dashed him full in the faces of the foe.

The little man to whose help the lads had come took this in out of the tail of his eye.

"Bien! Bien!" he exclaimed, and dashed forward.

Hal and Chester were right behind him.

Hal struck out with his right, and one of the enemy toppled over with an oath. Another went down before his left fist. Chester, with a heavy blow, felled another of their opponents, and the little man, snarling and fighting with hands and feet, quickly disposed of two more.

The enemy drew back and the three had time for a breathing spell. Their foes, however, had no mind to give up the fight, and with a sudden concerted dash, surrounded the trio.

The fighting became fast and terrific. The weight of numbers was beginning to tell, and suddenly Chester went down before a heavy smash on the jaw. He was badly shaken up, but was not unconscious. As he scrambled to his feet, the clear sound of a whistle shattered the night. Immediately the fighting stopped and the assailants drew back.

"Les Gendarmes!" exclaimed one, and took to his heels, followed by the rest.

"Les Gendarmes!" exclaimed the little man to whose assistance the lads had come. "Voila!"

Chester got to his feet quickly, and, with Hal, dashed forward upon the heels of the little man. Round corner after corner, through dark streets and darker alleys he ran, the lads following close behind him. Finally, out of breath and tired of limb and body, he came to a halt in a secluded spot in a narrow street.

The lads came to a stop beside him. The man immediately threw himself upon the ground and the lads did likewise. Here, for a few moments, all lay silent, panting.

Finally the little man spoke.

"You came to my aid just in time," he said, "and I thank you. But for you I should have been killed."

"Killed!" exclaimed Hal. "And why would they have killed you?"

"Because," said the little man, "I myself picked the pocket of a man whom one of their number was trailing."

"I see," said Chester, manifesting no surprise, for he was well aware that the street Arab had taken them for his own kind. To have betrayed surprise would have been to invite suspicion.

"Now," said the little man, "we shall have to hide. The police will be scouring the neighborhood. Have you a refuge handy?"

"No," said Hal.

"Then you shall come with me." He hesitated a moment, then added: "Which do you love best, your country or gold?"

Hal took a long chance.

"Gold," he said briefly.

The little man slapped him familiarly on the back.

"As all true Apaches!" he exclaimed. "Bien! Then you shall come with me."

He led the way along the dark street and the lads followed him.



CHAPTER XXIII.

THE APACHE DEN.

Before a low-lying, tumble-down wooden shack of but a single story the little man paused and glanced furtively about. Then he darted quickly up the steps, and, motioning to the lads to follow him, disappeared within.

Inside Hal and Chester found themselves in what appeared to be a narrow passageway. It was damp and evil-smelling and the darkness was intense. The lads were unable to see a yard in front of them. The voice of the little man pierced the darkness.

"Come," he said, and the lads advanced in the darkness.

They came presently to a flight of stairs, leading down, and they descended slowly, feeling their way that they might not fall. At the bottom there was still nothing but darkness. Here their guide was waiting for them and allowed them to pass. A moment and there came to the ears of the lads a dull clang, as if a heavy iron door had been closed behind them.

And this, in truth, was the case.

Ahead of them in the dark hall their guide had opened the door without their knowledge that such a thing existed, and now that they had passed through he closed it again. The lads waited until he again brushed by them and took the lead. Then they followed.

It seemed to Hal and Chester that the passageway wound about considerably, for they were conscious of making several sharp turns. Then, from ahead, a faint glow of light pierced the darkness and they could make out their surroundings. In the rear it was perfectly dark and on each side of the narrow passageway the dark, grimy walls rose sheer for perhaps twenty-five feet. The place reeked with the smell of foul air and tobacco smoke.

Now that the light shattered the blackness the little man, who had advanced as soft-footed and as sure-footed as a cat in spite of the darkness, increased his stride and made toward the light. He brought up directly against another door, through cracks in which the light streamed. Here he turned to Hal and Chester.

"I am Jean Garnier," he said. "And you?"

"Hugo Choteau," replied Hal, giving the first name that came into his mind.

"I am Victor Doubet," said Chester, and added to himself, "I hope I can remember it."

He kept repeating it over and over to himself, that he might grow accustomed to it.

"Bien," said Jean. "Come! I shall introduce you to my friends."

He knocked sharply on the door—three light taps, followed by one loud tap.

From within came the sound of scraping chairs, followed by footsteps approaching the door. Came the sound of bars being removed and placed on the floor and a bolt shot back with a crash. Light immediately flooded the passageway as the door was opened a crack and an evil-looking face peered forth.

"Oh, it is you, Jean," he said, after peering intently at the lads' guide. "Come in."

He threw the door open wider.

"Yes, it is I," said the Apache, "and with me two friends."

"If they are friends of yours they are welcome," said the man inside.

The three entered the room together and the man who had opened the door immediately re-bolted and re-barred it.

Inside Hal and Chester looked quickly about, but still not so as to give an impression of undue curiosity. The room was perfectly bare, except for a single large table and probably fifty old wooden chairs, which were scattered about without regard to order. At the far end of the room there was another door, but except for this there was no means of egress.

In various parts of the room sat perhaps a dozen men, all of evil visage, their hats pulled low over their eyes, cigarettes protruding from their lips at a drooping angle. They paid no heed to the entrance of Jean, Hal and Chester, although, from under their hats, they eyed them keenly.

Jean turned to the man who had admitted them and introduced the two lads with a flourish of his right hand.

"These, Georges," he said, "are my friends, Hugo Choteau and Victor Doubet, who, but a few moments since, saved me from death."

Georges' only reply was a grunt. Plainly he was little interested in the newcomers, as long as they were vouched for by Jean, and he showed no interest in Jean's recent escape from death. Apparently this was no novelty. He resumed his seat at the table, and putting up his feet and drawing his hat even farther over his face, lighted a cigarette and settled himself in comfort and closed his eyes.

Now that he had piloted them to safety Jean took no further thought of the boys, but himself dropped into a chair, propped his feet up, lighted a cigarette and followed Georges' example.

Hal and Chester also sank into chairs and did likewise, both, however, keeping one eye open.

Directly Jean sat up and from his pocket produced a pack of cigarettes, which he extended to Hal.

"Smoke?" he said laconically.

Hal was in a quandary. He was not a smoker himself, yet he realized that the Paris Apache who was not a victim of nicotine was indeed a scarce article. But he muttered to himself, as he selected a cigarette and passed the pack on to Chester:

"Here is where smoking a cigarette may save our lives."

Chester's mind followed along on this course, and, after passing the pack back to Jean, and accepting a match, both lads lighted up in most approved fashion.

The wants of his guests thus attended to, Jean left them to their own thoughts, and gave them no further notice.

The Apache is not a talkative man, and therefore there was not the sound of a human voice to break the death-like stillness of the foul-smelling den. For perhaps an hour and a half all sat without so much as moving.

Suddenly the stillness was shattered by a resounding knock on the door by which the lads had so recently entered—three light taps, followed by a single loud tap. Immediately Georges was upon his feet again, and unlocked and unbarred the door and peered out. Then he threw wide the door and another man entered the room.

Now there was something in the appearance of this newcomer that set him somewhat apart from the other inmates of the den, and when he spoke his tones were much softer than the voices of the true Apache; but it carried an evil ring.

"The chief will be here within the hour," he said to Georges. "He desires that you have all here before he arrives."

"It shall be done," replied Georges, eying the newcomer with some disfavor because of his pomposity.

The newcomer walked across the room and sat down. As he did so his eyes fell upon Hal and Chester, slouched back in their chairs. Immediately he was on his feet.

"Who are these?" he demanded of Georges. "Their faces are unfamiliar to me."

"Friends of Jean Garnier," replied Georges briefly.

Jean was immediately on his feet and approached the questioner.

"Yes, they are friends of mine," he said, "and, as true Apaches, they love gold better than anything else. What have you to say about it?" and his hand slipped to his belt.

It was plain to Hal and Chester that the man was not frightened by this show of hostility, for he smiled slightly and shrugged his shoulders.

"Oh, nothing at all," he said. "What are one or two Apaches more or less? You are all of the same breed."

He turned his back on Jean and sat down. Producing a monogramed cigarette case he opened it, extracted a cigarette, and lighted up. He paid no further heed to those about him.

Hal and Chester, out of the tail of their eyes, surveyed him critically. The man had now removed his overcoat and the lads saw that his clothes were neatly pressed and of good texture. A diamond glistened in his tie. Plainly he was no Apache.

Georges, in the meantime, had been busy. He aroused several of the apparently sleeping men, spoke a few words to them, and the latter hurried away. Some minutes later they returned, and after them came others. These drifted in gradually now and slunk into chairs. When the supply of chairs had been exhausted newcomers sat on the floor.

Soon the room was full to overflowing.

The man who had accosted Hal and Chester now threw away his cigarette and once more approached the lads. Jean, perceiving this, also left his chair and came forward.

The man whom Hal and Chester surmised was some sort of a lieutenant of the Apache chief, addressed them.

"Do you know what we are here for?" he asked.

"No," said Hal.

Chester also shook his head.

"Well, I'll tell you," said the man. "We are here to make money. The President is sought by the Germans, and we are to see that he is delivered safely into their hands. For this each man is to receive a handful of German gold. Now, it makes little difference whether you are with us or not. If you are with us, all right—we can use a few more men. If not, you will never leave here alive."

Before either Hal or Chester could reply Jean stepped forward.

"Of course they are with us," he said, thrusting his face close to that of the lads' questioner.

Calmly the man extended one hand, placed it squarely over Jean's face and shoved him violently backward.

"This," he said quietly, "is none of your business. So keep out."

The little man uttered a cry of rage and made as if to draw a knife; but, apparently thinking better of it, returned to his chair and subsided.

The man turned to Hal.

"Are you with us?" he asked.

"Yes," replied Hal.

"And you?" turning to Chester.

"Yes."

There came a commanding knock on the door. Georges sprang forward and flung it wide, and there strode into the room a tall, slender man, in evening dress, shining top hat and white kid gloves. A black mask covered his face.

"Pierre Duval," whispered Hal to Chester, "the King of the Apaches!"



CHAPTER XXIV.

THE APACHE CHIEF.

Immediately all in the room rose to their feet, Hal and Chester doing likewise. Duval strode straight to the table in the center of the room without so much as a glance about, and sat down at its head. Then the others resumed their seats.

Duval turned to Georges.

"Are we all here?" he demanded, in a low, soft voice.

"Yes, sir," replied Georges, "and two besides."

"Bring the strangers before me," ordered the chief.

At a sign from Georges, Hal and Chester advanced and stood before the Apache king. The latter surveyed them long and carefully through his mask.

"Names?" he asked briefly.

The lads gave their assumed ones.

"You know what we are here for?" was the next question.

The lads signified that they did.

"And you are with us?"

"Yes," both replied.

"Bien! Back to your places."

The lads retired.

Now Duval rose and addressed the others.

"Since our last meeting it has been decided not to kidnap the President," he said slowly.

Exclamations of disappointment escaped the men sitting about.

"But," continued Duval, "there nevertheless will be work for some of us that will mean additional gold for all."

Cries of satisfaction greeted this statement.

"It has been decided," Duval went on, emphasizing each word, "that the President must be put out of the way. Are there any present who object to this?"

He swept the room with his gaze.

Hal and Chester, although taken somewhat aback by this cold-blooded statement, manifested no surprise. Neither was there a word from any of the assemblage, and Duval continued again:

"Now, for the honor of accomplishing this work you shall draw lots."

From his pocket he produced a small box.

"In here," he said calmly, "are enough balls so that each may have one. With the exception of two, all are black. The first man to select a red ball—his shall be the fortune to do the work; and to him goes an extra gold piece.

"That there may be no treachery, the man who picks the second red ball shall follow the first; and, in the event that he shows signs of a soft heart, or manifests a desire to give a warning, the second man shall kill him. Is that plain to you?"

Cries of "yes, yes" filled the room.

"All right, then," said Duval. "We shall now proceed with the drawing."

He opened one side of the box, and motioned for the first man to approach. The latter did so, drew forth a ball and exposed it to view. It was black, and the man passed on.

Man after man drew and each pulled forth a black ball. Now it came Chester's turn, and so far neither red ball had been drawn.

Slowly the lad approached with his heart in his mouth. To himself he muttered:

"I'll draw a red one just as sure as I stand here. I can feel it!"

For a moment he hesitated, and Duval's keen eyes caught the sign of indecision. He half rose to his feet.

"We want no chicken-hearts," he said. "However, draw or not, as you choose."

Chester caught the cold menace in the tone, and he realized that should he fail to draw, knowing what he did of the plot, he would never leave the room alive.

He thrust his hand into the box, clutched an elusive ball and drew it forth. He looked at it quickly and held it aloft.

The ball was red!

Immediately the men crowded about him and slapped him on the back.

"You are a lucky dog," exclaimed Jean; "an extra gold piece you'll get."

Chester had been so sure that he would draw one of the red balls that he felt no surprise. Hal, however, was greatly agitated, and he concealed his anxiety with an effort, as, being next in line, he also advanced to draw.

"If I can get the other red one," he said to himself, "it may work out all right."

The same thought had struck Chester, and he leaned forward anxiously. Hal thrust his hand into the box, then drew it forth again; and the ball that he held up was black.

The lad heaved a sigh of disappointment as he returned to his place.

"Never mind," said Chester, "it will come out all right."

Next to the last man to draw was Jean Garnier. He thrust his hand quickly into the box and pulled forth the second red ball. He was so elated that he cried out with joy. Then he ran to Chester and slapped him on the back.

"Perhaps," said he, "we can work this together and share equally in the prize."

Before Chester could reply, Duval rose once more to his feet and ordered that all leave the room except those who held the red balls. Slowly the men filed out, Hal being among the last to go. Outside the lad walked some distance from the house, then, when he felt certain that the others had disappeared, returned, and concealed himself in a dark alleyway across the street, where he waited patiently for Chester to emerge.

As soon as the others had left the room, Duval called Chester and Jean to him, and spoke in a low voice.

"This work must not be bungled," he said sternly. Then, to Jean, "and you are to see that it is not bungled. If this Victor makes one false move, you know what to do?"

Jean nodded his head in the affirmative.

"But," he added, "Victor will make no false move."

"I feel sure of that," replied Duval, "or I should not allow him to leave here alive."

Then he addressed Chester.

"The President," he said, "will make an address from the steps of the Palace to-morrow at noon. I shall expect you to be in the crowd. When the proper moment comes, you will know what to do. Jean will be there to see you do it, and I myself shall be on hand to see that you both obey. Am I understood?"

"Yes," said Chester.

Jean likewise nodded affirmatively.

"All right, then. Are you armed?"

Jean shook his head negatively, and so did Chester, in spite of the fact that he had two automatics concealed in his clothes, for he did not think it wise to betray this to Duval.

From his pockets the Apache chief produced a pair of automatics, one of which he handed to each. Then he dismissed them with a flourish of his hand.

Jean led the way along the dark passageway and into the street. Hal, from his place of concealment, saw them emerge and followed them. A short distance from the den he came up with them. Jean, as well as Chester, was delighted to see him.

"Why," said Jean, "can't we all work together and make sure that the plot does not fail?"

"An excellent idea," said Chester.

He spoke to Hal in a whisper: "Watch the house and follow Duval when he comes out."

Hal, accordingly, did not fall in with Jean's plan.

"I am glad to be out of it," he said. "It's too dangerous to suit me. No, Victor, there, is different. He likes the spice of danger, and so may you. But I prefer to get my gold easier, in the streets."

Jean shrugged his shoulders in contempt.

"I thought you were a brave man," he said. "Come on, Victor; we have no time for cowards."

He took Chester by the arm and the two walked off down the street, while Hal again concealed himself in the dark alley opposite the Apaches' den, where he waited for Duval to emerge.

His patience was soon rewarded. A dim figure appeared in the doorway and peered cautiously about. Then it slipped quietly to the street and strode rapidly away in the darkness. Hal slipped from his concealment and, keeping a respectable distance behind, set out in pursuit. For several blocks Duval continued slowly; then stopped suddenly at a corner. Hal immediately slunk from sight into the shelter of a doorway.

Duval raised a hand, and a moment later a taxi dashed up and stopped before him. Duval climbed in and the taxi moved away.

Hal, however, was not to be shaken off thus easily. Running forward quickly he succeeded in catching hold of the taxi and pulling himself up behind. In this way he rode for perhaps half an hour.

Abruptly the machine came to a halt and Hal quickly jumped to the ground and into a doorway, where he peered forth in time to see Duval alight.

The man was now without a mask, and Hal perceived the clear countenance of a Frenchman of the upper class, whose age must have been somewhere in the thirties. He strode rapidly down the street, and, turning a corner, mounted the steps of a handsome residence just beyond. Hal came around the corner just in time to see his quarry enter the door.

The lad took the number of the house and also the name of the street. These he impressed firmly upon his memory by repeating them over and over. Then he quietly ascended the steps of the house and tried the door. It was locked.

The lad descended the steps again and walked round the house, seeking some other means of entrance. In the narrow areaway he saw a small window, apparently opening into the cellar. He tried it. It was unlocked and gave easily before the pressure of his hand.

Hal lay flat upon the ground and pushed his feet through the opening. Then, slowly, he let his body through until he hung by his hands. He did not know how far his feet might be from the floor, but it was no time to hesitate. He released his hold and dropped.

There came a crash so loud it might have raised the dead.



CHAPTER XXV.

CHESTER AND JEAN.

Chester was confident that Hal could take care of his end of the affair, and he therefore allowed Jean to lead him along without protest. Jean became talkative as they walked along the dark streets.

"It should be easy," he said with enthusiasm. "All we have to do is to get close to the President in the crowd. Can you shoot?"

"A little," replied Chester briefly.

"I'm not a bad shot, either," said Jean. "So, if you should miss with your first shot, I'll turn loose myself. That will insure success."

"I have been thinking," said Chester, "how it would feel to be shot, and of what is likely to happen to us after we fire. What will the crowd do to us?"

"Oh, we'll get away, all right," said Jean.

"We'll never get away," said Chester solemnly. "We shall be torn to pieces before we can move a foot."

"I hadn't stopped to think of that," said Jean slowly.

"No, I suppose not," replied Chester. "Nevertheless, that is what is bound to happen. And they won't kill us on the spot, either. They'll put us to death slowly, by torture."

The lad looked sharply at his companion. Plainly this was an aspect of the case which had not occurred to Jean. He shuddered.

"Do you realize what we are about to do?" Chester went on. "We are going to shoot down, in cold blood, the President of France; the President of our own country. The crowd will go wild. We shall be torn limb from limb."

"Stop it! Stop it!" cried Jean. "Would you have me lose my nerve?"

"And besides," continued Chester, "what has the President done to us that we should seek his life?"

"But," said Jean, "we shall have gold."

"And what good will gold do us after we are dead?"

"True," said Jean. "It won't do us much good, will it?"

"It won't do us any good," said Chester.

"But," said Jean, "Duval must have thought of all that. He—"

"Duval knows as well as you or I what will happen to us should we assassinate the President," said Chester. "He will have that much more gold for himself."

"Still, we may manage to escape," said Jean hopefully.

"And if we do," said Chester sternly, "what then? Do you suppose Duval will keep faith with us? There will be such a hue and cry as Paris never heard before. Duval will turn us over to the authorities to save his own skin."

"If I thought that," said Jean, "I—"

"Besides," interrupted Chester, "we shall only be aiding the Germans, and not ourselves, and how long do you suppose the Apaches will be allowed to live should the Germans invade Paris?"

"Why—" began Jean, but Chester interrupted again.

"One of their first steps would be to annihilate us," said Chester. "They would ravage the city, tear it into little pieces. Remember, it is our own home, yours and mine. Would you like to see that?"

"No," replied Jean, "but—"

"No matter how you look at it," continued Chester, "you and I are sure to get the worst of it. Now, I don't know about you; but I am going to have nothing to do with the plot."

Jean did not reply for some moments, and they walked along in silence for several blocks. Finally the little man replied:

"But I have been ordered to shoot you if you fail to carry out your end of the work."

"In which event," replied Chester calmly, "you would also have to assassinate the President, and would yourself be killed."

"Then what am I to do?" cried Jean, now greatly alarmed.

"Follow my example, and have no hand in the matter," said Chester.

"It might be done," said Jean slowly, "for Duval himself will be present to-morrow, and, when he sees we have failed, he will do the deed himself."

"Then we must prevent that also."

"What! Why?"

"Because, should the President fall before any hand—yours, mine, Duval's or another's—we should still meet the same fate; for the city would be dragged by the troops and police and not an Apache left alive. No, the President must be warned."

"But that is treachery!" cried the little man.

"Is it treachery to save the President of your country from the hands of an assassin?" demanded Chester, and answered his own question: "No!"

The two paused on a street corner, and there, for perhaps ten minutes, Jean stood wrapped in thought. Finally he spoke, and there was a different tone in his voice.

"I believe," he said quietly, "that we have both learned a lesson. There must be in us, after all, a spark of loyalty. No! We cannot assassinate the President, nor can we stand idly by while he is shot down. He must be warned."

Chester grasped the little Apache by the hand.

"I knew I could make you see it that way!" he exclaimed. "Good! Now, come with me, and we shall give the warning at once."

"Where to?" demanded Jean.

Chester looked at him carefully a single moment, and a doubt of the man's sincerity came to him. Therefore he replied cautiously:

"Never mind. Just follow me; and if you mean what you say, warning shall be given at once."

For a moment Jean hesitated, then followed Chester down the street.

Chester's sense of direction now stood him in good stead. Not once in all his wandering about had he lost a general idea of where lay the Hotel de Ville, and he now steered a course in that direction. He finally came into view of the building, and here Jean hung back.

"What's the matter?" demanded Chester, as the little man stopped.

"We can't go in there," was the reply. "They won't let us speak. We'll be thrown into jail and kept there."

"Oh, no, we won't," said Chester. "Leave it to me. Come on."

A sudden suspicion struck Jean.

"Tell me," he cried, and grasped the lad fiercely by the arm, "are you a detective?"

"No," replied Chester calmly. "What made you think that?"

"I don't know," was the reply, "but the suspicion came to me and I could not down it. I will have nothing to do with a detective."

"Well," said Chester, "I am no detective; but"—he paused and laid his hand on Jean's arm—"I am a French army officer!"

"A spy!" cried Jean, and freed his arm.

"A spy, if you choose to call me one," said Chester, "but still your friend, for I believe you have come to your senses."

"I know," cried Jean, "you want to get me locked up!"

He stepped quickly backward, turned, took to his heels and ran.

Chester was after him like a flash, and as he ran he muttered to himself:

"Great Scott! I can't let him get away. He is sure to believe he has been imposed upon, and undoubtedly will warn the others!"

The little Apache was fleet of foot, but still not so fleet as was Chester. Within the block the lad overtook the fugitive and his hand grasped the other by the collar.

"Now," he said quietly, "you shall come with me, whether you will or not. I mean you no harm, and, if you do as I say, you will be all right."

Jean was not convinced, however, and continued his desperate struggles to free himself. But Chester was too strong for him, and with some difficulty he succeeded in dragging the little man back to the Hotel de Ville, and inside, where both were seized by half a dozen French troopers.

"Call General Gallieni at once," demanded Chester.

The officer in command laughed at him.

"Ha! Ha! Ha!" he laughed. "Look who wants to see the general."

He motioned to two of his men, who started to drag the prisoners toward an open door, beyond which, as Chester surmised, lay cells.

Chester shook himself free with a single movement and turned upon the French captain.

"I am an army officer," he said quietly, "and am engaged in a piece of work at General Gallieni's own suggestion. You will summon him immediately."

The French officer was somewhat surprised at this, but he was not quite convinced.

"How am I to know that you speak the truth?" he asked skeptically.

"Because I say so," replied Chester quietly, taking a step forward.

The French officer also advanced a step.

"It is my belief that you seek the general for some ulterior purpose," he said with a sneer, and, before Chester realized what he was about to do, the officer raised his hand and slapped him soundly across the face. "Take them away," he ordered his men.

The blow in the face stung Chester to action.

With a quick spring he avoided the soldiers who would have seized him and leaped upon the French officer, whom he sent to the floor with a single blow of his fist. The officer rose slowly to his feet, drawing his revolver as he did so.

"You dog!" he cried, and raised his weapon.

But he did not fire, for at that moment there came from directly behind him the command in a ringing voice:

"Put down that weapon! What's the meaning of this?"

General Gallieni stood in the doorway. The officer turned and saluted.

"These dogs," he said, indicating Chester and Jean, who were now held by the soldiers, "insulted me. I refused to allow them to see you, and one of them struck me. I believe they came to assassinate you."

The general took a step back, for he had not recognized Chester.

"To assassinate me?" he exclaimed.

"You are wrong, General," said Chester quietly, "I have returned with information that will prevent the assassination of the President."

"Lieutenant Crawford!" ejaculated the general. "The President is to be assassinated, you say?"

"Yes, sir."

"When?"

"At noon to-morrow, when he speaks on the Palace steps."

"And perhaps you know who has been selected to kill him?"

"Yes, sir; I do," replied Chester quietly. "I have, sir!"



CHAPTER XXVI.

THE PLOT FOILED.

General Gallieni started back in great surprise.

"You to be the assassin?" he exclaimed.

"Yes, sir," replied the lad, "I was fortunate enough to draw the red ball in the den of the Apaches, sir."

The general advanced and took him by the arm.

"Come with me," he said, and led the way toward his private office.

Chester motioned for Jean to follow, and the little man did so, though plainly not without some trepidation.

"Who is that?" asked General Gallieni, pointing to Jean.

"He is the man who is to shoot me in case I fail to shoot the President," said Chester cheerfully.

"Hadn't we better have him thrown into a cell?"

"No, sir. We have agreed that it is not right to shoot the President, and I am sure that we can count on his help should we need it. It is likely to be valuable."

"Well," said the general, sinking into a chair and motioning the others to seats, "tell me all about it; and where, by the way, is your friend?"

"He is trailing Duval, sir."

"Good! Now, let's have the story."

Chester put the facts before the military governor as clearly and concisely as possible, and when he had concluded General Gallieni jumped to his feet.

"We must act at once!" he exclaimed, and pulled the telephone toward him.

"But not with too great haste, General," protested Chester, also rising. "We must first decide upon a plan."

"What do you mean?" asked the general.

"Why," said Chester, "if we hope to capture Duval—who will be on hand to-morrow, and who is likely to shoot the President himself—we must figure out the best means of doing so."

"I shall have the President cancel his engagement."

"That," said Chester, "might only delay the assassination."

"What would you suggest?"

Chester was silent for some minutes before he replied:

"If the President doesn't make his address to-morrow, his life probably will be attempted the next day or the next. If he does speak, Duval is sure to be on hand. Jean and I must be in the crowd, so that Duval may see us; for, if we are not there, Duval may suspect treachery and shoot the President himself.

"Seeing us there, however, Duval will take no action himself. As the President's speech progresses, Duval will be waiting for me to fire. He will be continually thinking that I will do so in another moment.

"Now, I should say that this is the best way: Let the President cut his speech short, say to three minutes. The moment he ceases speaking, rush a heavy guard between him and the crowd and have him stoop immediately behind them. Realizing that the plot has failed, Duval may not fire; but, in the event that he does, we shall probably be able to spot him and get him before he can escape."

General Gallieni spent some minutes considering the feasibility of this plan. Finally he said:

"If we only knew Duval by sight, we could avoid all this by seizing him there before the Palace."

"The trouble is we don't," replied Chester dryly.

General Gallieni turned to Jean.

"Do you know Duval by sight?" he asked.

"I have never seen his face, sir," was the reply. "He has never appeared before us without his mask."

"Well, then," said General Gallieni, "we shall have to do the best we can. Now, you two go into the next room and get some sleep. I'll get the Prime Minister and explain the matter to him and to the President, that we may all act in accord."

Chester saluted the general, and, followed by Jean, made his way into the adjoining room, while the general proceeded to get busy on the telephone.

Chester turned to Jean and clapped him heartily on the back.

"Isn't this better than attempting to assassinate the President?" he asked.

Jean smiled back at him.

"It is," he said quietly. "And you may count upon me to the limit."

"Good!" exclaimed Chester. "I knew it."

He threw himself upon a little cot and was soon fast asleep. Jean followed his example.

Daylight was streaming into the room through the large French windows when Chester was aroused by a hand on his arm. The lad was upon his feet in an instant and faced General Gallieni. Immediately he turned and aroused Jean, who was still sleeping heavily.

"All is in readiness," said General Gallieni. "The President and the Prime Minister have been apprised of the plan, and it is to be acted upon as you suggested."

Chester produced his watch and glanced at it.

"Half-past ten," he said. He turned to the general. "Have you had any word from Hal?"

"Who?"

"Hal—Lieutenant Paine."

"No."

"By Jove!" said Chester. "I hope he hasn't gotten into any trouble."

Eleven o'clock came, and still no word from Hal.

At 11:15 Chester and Jean left the Hotel de Ville and made their way toward the Palace. A great crowd had already assembled when they arrived, and they had some difficulty in pushing their way through, so that they might get as close as possible to the spot where the President was to stand while delivering his address.

By the dint of hard shoving and pushing, and the use of their elbows, however, they were finally successful, and came to a pause near the foot of the steps, in the very first line of spectators. Beyond was drawn up an armed guard of perhaps a hundred soldiers. No one could approach closer.

Chester turned and surveyed the crowd. He thought it possible that Hal might be there some place, but, scan the faces as he would, he could see no sign of his chum.

The crowd was good-natured, and the people jostled and pushed and shoved each other jokingly.

Chester scanned the crowd once more, seeking to determine the figure of Duval, the Apache chief. Several times he thought he recognized the man by his peculiar build, but in each case he soon found another that looked just the same in the crowd.

Jean also, at Chester's request, had put his keen eyes to the test; but he was no more fortunate. However, both realized that, some place in that crowd Duval had his eyes on them.

In the distance came the faint sound of a bell, as a clock chimed the first stroke of the hour of noon; and, with the last stroke, the President of France appeared upon the steps of the palace.

A great roar of applause went up from the crowd and continued for fully five minutes; nor did it cease at once as the President advanced to the very edge of the uppermost step and raised a hand for silence.

Then, gradually, the sounds of tumult died down, and President Poincare opened his mouth and began to speak.

One, two, three minutes the President spoke, while all about reigned the silence of death; then, suddenly, at the expiration of the third minute, he stepped back suddenly, while at the same moment a long line of French soldiers stepped into place in front of him.

From the edge of the crowd, at the side nearest Chester and Jean, the stillness was suddenly shattered by the sharp crack of an automatic, and a soldier who stood before the President of France toppled in his tracks. Another stepped into his place, and the President was safe.

But, with the crack of the revolver the great crowd became a wild, howling mob. Shrieks, screams and cries of anger filled the air, and as a single man the crowd swooped upon the spot where a tall man with a smoking revolver in his hand was attempting to make his escape.

Chester, who had been prepared for the shot, sprang forward upon the instant, with Jean but a step behind him. Through the crowd they were forced to fight their way, but eventually they came to the edge of it, only to find that Duval, for such they were sure the would-be assassin was, had fought his way out and fled.

But, as the Apache chief ran, the crowd dashed after him. Chester now had his school days to thank for the fact that he was more fleet of foot than the others of the crowd. He passed them rapidly, as he ran after the flying figure of Duval, now at least 200 yards ahead of him down the street.

The lad raised his revolver as he ran and fired. But Duval did not halt. Chester had missed.

With the howling pack at his heels, and Chester gradually closing up the gap between them, Duval exerted himself to the utmost. Suddenly he turned into a narrow alley, where he halted. Chester, who was nearer than any of the others, dashed into the alley without slackening his speed, and, as he did so, Duval struck him a heavy blow in the face with the butt of his revolver.

Immediately he turned and dashed forward again.

Chester was not knocked unconscious by the force of the blow, but he reeled and fell to the ground. He was up in a moment, however, and with blood streaming from an ugly gash in his head, dashed after the fugitive once more.

Gradually Duval and his pursuer outdistanced the rest of the crowd. Chester was near enough not to be thrown off the track, as Duval rounded corner after corner; and, try as he would to shake off his pursuer, Duval was unable to do so.

At the next corner Duval darted into a little store, and out the other side, upsetting a group of men as he did so. Chester dashed in after him.

But here he encountered an obstacle. The group of men upset by Duval rose to their feet, very angry. At the sight of a second running man, not realizing the seriousness of the chase, they lined up and stopped the lad's progress.

Realizing it was no time for talk, Chester struck out right and left, and men dropped. But the rest closed in, and Chester went down. A heavy wrench was raised over his head and would have fallen on it.

But a newcomer caught the upraised arm. Chester looked up. It was Hal.



CHAPTER XXVII.

HAL IN PERIL.

Hal was unable to tell just what caused the great crash as, after releasing his hold on the window in the cellar of the house to which he had followed Duval he went down into space. His feet struck a projection of some kind, and the crash followed.

The lad struck the floor in a heap. Although he felt sure that the crash must have aroused everyone in the house, he lay perfectly still, listening. Above he could hear the sounds of footsteps, and directly a door, which he judged to be the door into the cellar from above, opened.

The head of Duval appeared in the doorway. In his hand he held a flashlight, and Hal could make him out plainly. A second face peered over his shoulder, and Hal recognized it instantly as that of the Apache's chief lieutenant, who had accosted them in the den.

"What was it?" asked the lieutenant.

"I don't see anything," was the reply.

At that moment a furry shape calmly ascended the stairs and stopped at Duval's feet. It was a black cat, which stopped to lick his right paw. Duval stooped down and examined him. Then he arose with a laugh.

"Mon Dieu!" he exclaimed. "It was the cat. He must have upset the jars of jelly and preserves. See, he is covered with it."

"By Jove! This is luck," muttered Hal to himself. "The cat must have been sleeping among them when I knocked them down."

He made no move, and directly the two men and the cat disappeared and the door closed with a bang.

Hal waited a few minutes, and then arose slowly to his feet. While Duval had held the flashlight, the lad had taken in his surroundings, and now he cautiously approached where he knew the stairway to be. His outstretched hand touched the rail and his foot found the lowest step. He ascended silently.

The knob turned under his hand, and the door swung back without even a creak. Inside was perfect blackness.

Hal closed the door softly behind him and stole along what seemed to be a long hall. He went very slowly, and finally his outstretched hand touched an obstruction. He felt it over carefully, and his hand touched a knob. It was another door.

Hal placed his ear to the floor and listened. There was no sound from beyond. He arose and tried the knob. The door opened and the light flashed into the lad's eyes, almost blinding him.

He paused uncertainly, and then, not being accosted, stepped in and closed the door behind him. His eyes were used to the light by this time, and he looked quickly about him. He was in a bedroom.

The sound of voices came from the room beyond and approaching footsteps. The lad looked quickly about for a place of concealment, and the best that offered itself was the bed. Under this he dived swiftly and silently.

And none too soon. Duval and his lieutenant, followed by the black cat, came into the room, and sat down. Hal breathed silently.

"Well," said Duval, "everything is fixed. The money will be paid to us to-morrow night. Then we can take a ship for America, where we can enjoy the luxuries it will bring us."

"I'll be glad when it's all over," said his lieutenant. "This is ticklish business. You were lucky to get in with the Apaches."

"Rather," drawled his chief. "My height and general appearance, together with the fact that the former chief always wore a mask, have served us well. I wonder what the Apaches would do to us if they knew how I disposed of their real chief?"

His lieutenant laughed heartily.

"It would be no laughing matter if they were to find it out," said Duval.

"Perhaps not; still it is funny," was the reply.

The black cat jumped into Duval's lap, and he stroked it and talked to it. Then the animal began to claw at him.

"What's the matter, kitty?" asked Duval.

The animal cried and continued to claw at him.

"He wants to get down," said the other.

Duval released his hold on the cat, which immediately jumped to the floor and walked under the bed, to where Hal lay. The lad saw the animal coming, and reached out a friendly hand, thinking to keep it quiet.

But the cat's back bristled. Its tail grew to huge proportions, and it snarled and spat at him angrily.

"What do you suppose is the matter with the cat?" asked Duval.

"Sounds like he had found a dog under the bed," was the reply.

The hissing and snarling continued.

"Something wrong," said Duval. "Might as well have a look."

He dropped to his knees and peered under the bed, to where Hal was now defending himself against the attacks of the cat, which was striking at him with his sharp claws.

"See anything?" asked Duval's lieutenant.

"Man under the bed," replied Duval quietly. "Get out your gun and get on the other side of the bed."

His lieutenant obeyed with alacrity, and each, with a revolver in his hand, looked cautiously under the bed. Then Duval stretched forth a hand and, seizing the cat by the tail, dragged it forth. At the same time he called out:

"Come out from under there!"

Hal saw that resistance, between two fires as he was, would be useless.

"All right," he called back.

He crawled forth slowly, but before he emerged he drew his two revolvers from his pocket and dropped them beneath the bed. He was thoughtful enough to realize that, should he manage to regain his freedom, the guns under the bed would come in handy.

The lad got slowly to his feet and faced the two criminals.

Both started back in surprise at sight of his face. They recognized him immediately.

"Choteau!" cried Duval.

His lieutenant also exclaimed aloud.

"What are you doing here?" demanded the Apache chief sternly.

"I just wanted to see where you lived," replied Hal quietly.

"Why?"

"Well, there has been so much talk about you, your being a gentleman, and all that, that I wanted to satisfy my curiosity."

"Well, your curiosity is satisfied. What now?"

"Nothing," said Hal briefly.

"I suppose you know," said Duval, "that now you have seen me without my mask you will never leave this house alive."

"I suppose that is your idea," said Hal.

"You'll find that I have the right idea."

"Tell us your real object in coming here," said Duval's lieutenant.

"I have told you," replied Hal.

"That," said the lieutenant, "is a lie. It's too absurd. I guess I'll search you."

He proceeded to do so while Duval kept Hal covered. There was not much to be found—but one thing that Hal feared he would discover and which he realized he should have dropped with the revolvers under the bed.

His searcher found it, drew it forth, and, with an exclamation of triumph, held it up for Duval to see.

It was the police whistle General Gallieni had given him.

"So!" he exclaimed. "A police spy, eh! I thought so."

Hal shrugged his shoulders.

"Well, you have me," he said. "What are you going to do with me?"

The two men laughed.

"I guess you won't be as much surprised at what we are going to do as the manner in which we are going to do it," replied Duval, with an evil leer.

"How?" asked his lieutenant. "Water?"

"Right," was his chief's reply. He turned to Hal. "This house," he explained, "is on the very bank of the River Seine. Perhaps you have skirmished about in the rear?"

Hal shook his head negatively.

"Well, such is the case. In the cellar is a neat little room of four solid walls—no windows. There is a slight crack at the bottom, and through this, by a contrivance of my own, I can let in the waters of the river. The door is solid, and, once locked in, you cannot get out. I believe that this is a fitting death for a police spy. What do you think?"

Again Hal shrugged his shoulders.

"One way is as good as another," he said briefly. Duval turned to his companion with a laugh.

"Quite a brave man we have here, eh?"

"Quite," returned the other. "However, I guess he'll change his tune when the water gets up to his neck."

"Right you are," was the reply. "But what do you say? Shall he not sup with us first?"

"A good idea!" exclaimed his lieutenant.

Hal had been thinking rapidly. The men still held their revolvers in their hands, but they no longer covered him. Taking advantage of this fact, Hal suddenly dived under the bed and his two automatics were once more in his hand.

But the two men were after him in an instant. Before he could turn and bring his weapons to bear they had him covered, while Duval cried out:

"Come out from there, or I'll put a hole through you."

Hal realized that he could not hope to dispose of his two enemies, so quickly shoving the two revolvers into his clothes, he once more emerged and got to his feet.

"What are you, an ostrich?" demanded Duval, with a slight smile. "Think if you get your head out of sight you are safe?"

Hal made no reply, but he felt considerably more comfortable with his two automatics reposing safely at hand.

"Well, we might as well give the doomed a little bite to hold him up," said Duval, with a smirk. "You guard him now while I see what the pantry has to offer. Keep him covered with your gun, for he is desperate and may jump you."

"I'll guard him, all right," was the reply.

"Good! Of course, it is easy enough to shoot him, but I would rather have him swim a while first."



CHAPTER XXVIII.

FIGHT AND ESCAPE.

Duval returned a few moments later with sandwiches and milk, which he placed upon a table at one side of the room. He drew up three chairs and motioned the other two to seats. Then, with his revolver upon the table near him, he sat down himself.

"Don't stand on ceremony," he said to Hal. "This will be your last meal on earth, so you may as well make the most of it. Pitch in."

"Thanks," replied Hal, showing no sign of fear.

He picked up a sandwich and proceeded to eat it with apparent relish.

Light now filtered through a window at the far end of the room. Duval glanced at his watch.

"Mon Dieu!" he exclaimed. "I had no idea it was so late."

"What time is it?" asked Hal calmly.

"I can't see as it makes any difference to you," said Duval, with an evil leer. "You are not going any place. However, I'll tell you. It is now just ten minutes past eight."

Hal did not reply, and proceeded to finish his sandwich.

Finally, all the food having disappeared, Duval pushed back his chair and produced three cigars, one of which he offered to Hal and the other to his lieutenant.

"I don't smoke," said Hal; "thanks all the same."

"Suit yourself," replied Duval. "However, you may as well make yourself comfortable while we enjoy our cigars."

He puffed luxuriously, as did the other.

Hal also leaned back in his chair. He chafed under this restraint, but he realized that it would be foolish to make an effort to escape under the very mouths of his two captors' guns. Nevertheless, he was ready to take advantage of the first opportunity that should offer itself.

But none came.

Duval and his lieutenant, having disposed of their cigars, arose. The former, poking the muzzle of his revolver close to Hal's head, said sharply:

"Get up, now, and walk ahead of us. No tricks!"

Hal did as ordered, and, with the Apache chief's revolver prodding him in the back, left the room. At a command he went down the stairs to the basement.

"Turn to the right," instructed Duval.

Hal obeyed. At the far end of the cellar they came to a little room. Duval motioned Hal into it and followed himself, as did his lieutenant. The latter now kept Hal covered, while Duval tapped the walls with the butt of his revolver.

"Perfectly solid, you see," he said to Hal.

"I see," replied Hal.

Duval struck the open door several resounding blows.

"Also perfectly solid," he remarked. "If you had a gun now you might possibly blow the lock off, but, as you haven't, you will be safe enough."

He turned to his aide.

"You are sure he was not armed?"

"Sure. I searched him carefully."

"All right. Then there is no need to search him again."

With his revolver he covered the lad while he backed from the little room.

"Good-by," he said, and jumping out quickly, slammed the door closed.

"Good-by," Hal called after him, without a tremor.

"When the water begins to rise," shouted Duval, through the door, "you may lose some of your nerve. I'd like to stay and hear you cry for mercy, but I have other work to do. However, my friend here will stay in the house, and I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't hear you upstairs."

To this Hal made no reply.

He now turned his attention to an examination of the room in which he was confined. The walls rose on all sides to a height of perhaps fifteen feet. This he had perceived while the door stood open, but inside now it was perfectly dark, except for a tiny stream of light that filtered in from below the walls, which failed to reach the floor by less than an inch.

The lad felt the walls carefully with his hands. They were perfectly smooth. He placed his fingers on the floor. It was dry.

He stood silent for some moments and then, becoming conscious of a strange sound, he again touched the floor with his fingers. They came away wet. Water was slowly trickling into the room.

The room was very small, and Hal realized that it would not take it long to fill. Therefore he decided on instant action.

When Duval, before leaving the lad to his fate, had mentioned revolvers, Hal had feared for the moment that he might be searched anew; but, when Duval had said a second search was not necessary, the lad breathed easier. His reference to blowing away the lock had not been lost on Hal, but the lad had already thought of that.

"Well," he said to himself, "the sooner I act the better. If Duval has left the house already I shall have but one to deal with. If I wait until I am sure he has gone, I shall probably be drowned. Here goes!"

Quickly he produced his pair of automatics, and, running his hand over the door, found the lock. He placed the muzzle of one automatic right up against it, and holding the other in his other hand, ready for instant use should he encounter a foe on the opposite side, fired.

In the narrow room the shot sounded like an explosion of a cannon, and the force of it shook the lad from head to toe. Smoke filled the little aperture, strangling him. He pressed his weight against the door. It did not yield. Something had gone wrong.

Again he placed his revolver against the lock, and fired quickly twice, and then hurled his weight against the door. It gave way before him, and the lad staggered from the smoke into the damp but fresher air of the open cellar.

There, inhaling great breaths of air the while, he listened for the sound of his enemies. Not a sound was to be heard. The lad reasoned this out for himself.

"The shots were probably muffled within," he said. "I doubt if they could have been heard very far. Now to get out!"

He made his way to the end of the cellar where he had entered in the night, and finally came upon the little window. Then he gave vent to an exclamation of dismay.

"Great Scott!" he cried. "I can't reach it!"

It was true. The window was so high above the ground that there was no way in which the lad could secure so much as a finger-hold. He looked around for some object upon which to stand, but he could find none.

"Well, I'll have to go out through the house," he told himself. "There is no help for it."

Slowly and silently he climbed the steps once more, and as silently opened the door. There was light in the hall, and the boy could make out which way to go. He turned toward the room in which he had been taken prisoner and entered softly.

There, stretched out on the bed, was the Apache chief's lieutenant. Duval himself was not to be seen.

Hal, with revolver ready, tiptoed into the room. He saw a revolver on the little table, and muttered to himself:

"Careless of him."

At that moment the man on the bed turned and slowly opened his eyes. A cry of terror escaped him, as his gaze rested upon Hal, whom he was morally certain was in a living tomb in the cellar.