Dave essayed to pa.s.s on. As he did so, a foot was thrust out. Dave saw the movement and leaped over the foot to avoid being tripped.

"At him!" hissed the slim Apache. "Let us shake out his pockets."

Dave sprang forward, although he knew that he could not hope to run away. Instead, he leaped to a wall, placing his back against it. There he halted, glaring defiantly at his a.s.sailants, his fists up and ready for instant action.

"Sail in! Trim him!" snarled the slim one. "If our little American shows fight--kill him!"

The first who reached Dave reeled back with a broken nose, for Darrin's first was hard.

"Stick the pig!" cried the leader, meaning that the young officer was to be stabbed. Not one of the four had a knife, it seemed.

As they surrounded him, the one with the injured nose having returned to the fray, that slim Apache drew out a sandbag, long and narrow, shaped like a sausage, made of canvas and filled with sand. This is one of the most deadly weapons in the world.

"Let us see what soothing medicine will do!" he jeered.

In an instant all four had brought sandbags to light, and all closed in upon the desperate American.

"Come on, you cowards!" roared Dave, forgetting his French and lapsing back into English. "If I go out I'll take one of you with me."

Trying to tantalize their victim, the Apaches made thrusts at Ensign Dave, and then leaped nimbly back. It was their hope that he would spring forward at them and thus leave his rear unguarded. It is easiest to use the sandbag on a victim from behind, though the tactics now employed were favorites with the Apaches.

Dave had sense enough to divine the nature of their trick. Unless the police arrived promptly he expected to be killed by these jeering scoundrels, but he was determined to sell his life dearly enough.

Suddenly the young naval officer saw his chance and used it. One of his dancing tormentors got in too close. Darrin's right foot shot up and out, landing across the Apache's knee-cap.

Uttering a howl of rage and pain, the fellow all but crawled back.

"Kill the American," he howled. "Don't play with him."

Instantly the three remaining a.s.sailants worked in closer, yet with all the caution of their wily natures.

"Rush me!" taunted Dave, again in English. "Don't be so afraid. If you mean to kill me why don't you show courage enough to do it? Come on, you sneaks!"

Though the Apaches could not understand what the young ensign said to them, they knew the drift of his jeering words. Their faces contorted with rage, they struck at him, Dave's arms working like piston rods in his efforts to ward off their blows.

Close to the wall, slipping along on tip-toe came a tall figure. Then suddenly a newcomer leaped into the picture.

Biff! smash! Struck from behind in the neck, two of the Apaches pitched forward, going to earth. Dave Darrin, with a feint, followed up with a swinging right-hand uppercut, laid the last of the Apaches low, for the fellow sitting in a doorway, nursing his knee and cursing, no longer counted.

"Quick! Out of here!" ordered the newcomer, seizing Dave by the arm and starting him along.

"Jetson!" gasped Ensign Darrin, looking into the face of his rescuer.

"Yes," answered his brother officer. "Hurry along!"

"Jetson, you've saved my life this time. That pack of wolves would have killed me in spite of my best defense."

"We're not out of trouble yet," retorted Jetson, fairly pushing Darrin along. "Those Apaches will revive in a few seconds."

"Pooh! Together, Jetson, we could thrash half a dozen of their kind, and find it only exercise."

"But, my boy, don't you realize that there are more than three or four Apaches around the Rue d'Ansin? The alarm will sound, and a score more will rush up. These rascals are sure death, Darry, if they get at you in sufficient numbers! The Parisians fear them. You don't see a single citizen on the street now. Look! Every one of them flew to cover as soon as the Apaches moved into action. If bystanders interfered, or even watched, they too would have to reckon with these Apaches. Now, Darry, you're no coward, and neither am I, but if you're wise you will imitate me by taking to your heels."

Still holding Dave's arm lightly, Jetson sprinted along to the next corner.

"To the right," whispered Dave. "I've a taxicab here."

More than halfway down the block they saw the car at the curb. The chauffeur, when Dave called, stepped from a doorway in which he had taken refuge.

"The Apaches!" gasped the driver.

"Hustle!" urged Dave. "Come on, Jetson."

As the two young naval officers sprang into the car, the driver leaped to his own seat. Pressing the self-starter, the chauffeur soon had his machine gliding along. Nor did he go back, either, by way of the Rue d'Ansin.

Not until he was four blocks away from the scene did the man ask for his orders.

"Back to the Emba.s.sy," Dave instructed him. Then he remembered his comrade's swift, fine rescue.

"Jetson," he asked, "did you know it was I who was menaced by the Apaches?"

"I did not," replied his brother officer. "But I heard enough, at a distance, to know that an American was in trouble. In Paris that is sufficient for me. Darry, I am delighted that I happened along in time."

"You saved my life, Jetson, and at the risk of your own. If you had missed one of the Apaches, or had lost your balance, your career would have been ended right there, along with mine."

"You risked your life for me, Darry, back in the old Annapolis days, so we are even," answered Jetson gently. "However, we won't keep books on the subject of brotherly aid. All I can say, Darry, is that I am glad I chose this night to call on an artist who lives in dingy quarters half a mile beyond where I found you. And I am also glad that I did not accept his invitation to supper, or I should have come along too late to serve you."

As soon as the machine had left them at the Emba.s.sy, Darrin sought out Mr. Lupton.

"May I see Mr. Caine at once?" asked the young officer.

"You have seen Gortchky, then?"

"Yes, and I have found what I consider positive proof as to the plans of Gortchky's crew."

"I think Mr. Caine can be seen," replied Lupton.

Ensign Darrin was soon with the American Amba.s.sador, who nodded to Lupton to leave the room.

"Here, sir," began Darrin, "is a bit of paper that Gortchky dropped and which I picked up."

Mr. Caine scanned the paper.

"I do not see anything so very remarkable about it," he replied.

Dave whispered a few words in his ear.

"Is that true?" asked the Amba.s.sador, displaying sudden agitation.