The Boy Allies at Liege - Part 38
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Part 38

He continued to pace up and down, apparently deep in thought.

Occasionally he stopped to look in the direction from which he had followed his prey to the rendezvous.

After nearly an hour the lad, after a glance down the street, slipped quietly into a doorway. Apparently the thing for which he had been waiting was about to come to pa.s.s.

Footsteps sounded on the street, coming closer. Save for the one lone pedestrian, the street was deserted. The footsteps approached closer, and Chester gathered himself for a spring. As the man came abreast of the doorway in which the lad was hiding, Chester hurled himself upon him.

With one hand the lad clutched his victim about the throat, and with the other he struck out heavily. There was a stifled groan, and the man fell limp in the boy's arms.

Glancing hurriedly about to see that there was no one in sight--no witness to his deed--Chester dragged the man into the doorway. Here he quickly discarded his own clothes, stripped the stranger of his outer garments and donned them himself.

Then tearing his own clothes into strips, he bound his victim and gagged him, after which, now attired in his victim's clothes, he stood up and made a search of the pockets.

"If my surmise is correct," he said to himself, "I shall be all right."

The hand which was exploring the inside breast pocket came forth with a little piece of cloth.

"Good!" the lad exclaimed. "I thought as much. I didn't believe they would take too many chances. A stranger might get in and betray them."

For the little piece of cloth the lad had taken from the pocket of his newly acquired apparel was a black mask.

"Now," said the boy to himself, "to see if I cannot find out who I am supposed to be."

He continued the search of the pockets. Several pieces of paper and one or two doc.u.ments he glanced at hurriedly, and restored. Finally he drew out a paper that seemed to please him, for his face lighted up with a smile. He glanced at the slip of paper and read aloud:

"This is to certify that the bearer is an accredited agent of the One King."

At the bottom was a seal of peculiar design, but there was no signature.

"Evidently," said the lad, "members of this gang are not known to one another, at least all of them. They may spot me and they may not.

However, I've got to take a chance. Nothing risked, nothing gained."

The lad stepped quickly from his place of concealment and approached where the man he had followed had turned in more than an hour before. He descended the steps into the bas.e.m.e.nt and knocked upon the door--once loudly, three times softly, and once loudly again.

The door swung open before him, and a masked man peered out. Taking a deep breath, and feeling in his pocket to make sure that his revolver was in readiness, the lad stepped inside. The door swung to behind him.

Chester followed the man who had opened the door down a dark hallway, and into a dimly lighted room. Masked as he was, the boy had little fear of being discovered, but his hand rested on his automatic in his right-hand coat pocket.

Inside the room Chester perceived a circle of dark faces, stretching almost around the room. At one side, facing the circle, was a raised platform, and on this sat a huge bulk of a man, masked, as were all the others.

They all rose as Chester entered the room, and without a word the boy made his way to the one vacant seat. The conspirators then resumed their seats, and Chester sat down also, four chairs away from where the chief himself sat.

"Number One," called the chief, and the man nearest him on Chester's side arose. "What have you to report?"

"Everything is ready, sir. As you know, I am on the staff of the Belgian commander. With the information I shall impart to him at the proper time to-morrow, the main force of Belgian troops will be withdrawn from the northern part of the city and the surprise will be complete."

"You are sure? There is no chance of failure?"

"Not the slightest, sir."

"Good!" said the chief, and the first man resumed his seat.

"Number Two," called the chief, and the second man arose.

By his first words Chester recognized the man who had first spoken at the home of Edna Johnson.

"And what have you to report?" demanded the chief.

"That word has been sent to attack at five o'clock," was the reply.

"I have received an answer, showing that my message was delivered without mishap."

"Good!" boomed the chief again. "That is all."

Number Two resumed his seat.

"Number Three!" called the chief.

The man next to Chester rose to his feet.

"Your report," commanded the chief.

"I have to report, sir, that the thousand men sent to me have all arrived. They came singly, and the last one arrived shortly before I came here. They are all armed and are quartered in vacant houses on Brussels Street, at the southern extremity of the city. They are awaiting the word."

The chief nodded, and the third man sat down.

"Number Four!" called the chief.

Chester rose to his feet, as had the others.

"And you, sir?" demanded the chief. "Is your report satisfactory?"

Chester was thinking rapidly. He was in the most ticklish situation he had ever faced, and he was fully aware of it. He knew now that there was not one chance in a thousand of his escaping detection. But the lad did not falter, and his right hand grasped the handle of his automatic more firmly, as he made reply:

"Entirely so, sir," and then paused.

"Well, well!" shouted the chief. "Explain!"

Chester drew a deep breath, and took a haphazard shot:

"My men are ready to seize the entire Belgian staff, at a moment's notice, sir."

The confusion that broke out immediately following his words told Chester that his shot had missed. But the boy stood his ground. There was nothing else he could do.

From the opposite side of the room came a cry:

"That was the work a.s.signed to me."

"That is not true," was Chester's quick reply. "I was the man selected for that work."

The man on the other side of the room made a spring toward Chester, but he was arrested by the commanding voice of the chief, who now stood up to his full height, a revolver barrel gleaming in his outstretched hand.