"There is a traitor here," said the chief calmly. "I shall be the one to decide who it is, for you are all known to me. Unmask!"

Every person in the room save Chester obeyed this command, and for the fraction of a second he stood alone, his face still covered. But he stood for a fraction of a second only.

Then with a quick move his revolver leaped from his pocket, and there was the sound of a shot. The chief toppled over to the floor.

Chester leaped to one side, and with a backward sweep of his left arm knocked the single lamp from the wall and plunged the room into darkness.

Then he dropped to his knees. And none too soon, for twenty pistols cracked and as many bullets went hurtling by the spot where he had stood a moment before.

Ten feet behind Chester was a door. He had noticed it when he first entered the room, and had decided that there lay whatever chance he had for safety should he be discovered. Quickly, and still stooping, he ran toward the door.

And even as he reached it a match flared up and a bullet whistled by his ear. But the door was unlocked and gave before the boy's weight, and as, after pa.s.sing safely through it, he turned to close it in the faces of his enemies, one man blocked him, his arm raised to fire.

But Chester's revolver rang out first. The lad had fired from his hip, and the man went sprawling.

The lad turned his weapon on the others who now rushed toward him, and fired three rapid shots. Then he slammed the door shut, bolted it with a single movement, and, turning, ran along the dark pa.s.sageway, at the end of which he could discern a dim light.

Chester wiped his brow with his hand, and his hand came away wet. Holding it close to his eyes as he ran, Chester saw blood. A bullet had struck him a glancing blow on the side of the head, but in the excitement of the moment he had not realized that he was wounded.

At the end of the pa.s.sageway the lad emerged into another room. There was not a window in the room, and, glancing hurriedly about, Chester espied a pair of stairs. Quickly he leaped up these, and came into what apparently at one time had been a kitchen.

The boy's gaze roved hastily about for a means of exit. He tried the door, but it was locked. Twice he threw his whole weight against it, but it did not budge. He looked at the windows. For some reason, they were heavily barred.

Chester put the muzzle of his automatic to the keyhole of the door and fired. The lock was blown entirely away, and the door flew open beneath the lad's weight.

Not hesitating, the lad leaped through the next room and sped into the hall beyond. He could clearly see that his way now led to the front door, and he made for it at a run. He grasped the k.n.o.b and gave a quick wrench, but the door would not open.

He sought for the key to turn it, but there was no key. Evidently the family, upon going away, had barred it from the outside. From behind, the boy could hear the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps, and he knew that every moment's delay spelled disaster and almost certain death.

He picked up a chair, and with a single blow shattered the gla.s.s front of the door. He drew the leg of the chair across the ragged pieces of gla.s.s left at the bottom, and then, dropping the chair, drew himself up.

Just as he was about to tumble out on the far side, four men dashed up the steps with drawn revolvers. Chester took in the situation at a glance. He was between two fires, and escape was impossible.

"Well," he told himself quietly, "I guess it's all up with me this time."

He dropped back inside and faced his pursuers. Throwing his now useless revolver to the floor, he raised both hands.

"I surrender," he said quietly.

CHAPTER XXIII.

AT THE POINT OF DEATH.

Two of Chester's pursuers approached him warily with leveled revolvers, apparently fearing a trick. Coming within striking distance, one of them dealt the lad a heavy blow with his fist. Chester fell to the floor without so much as a groan, unconscious.

When the lad again opened his eyes he was once more in the council chamber of the conspirators. In the dim light he could discern the masked circle of faces that had gazed at him when he had entered the room for the first time. The only difference being that there was here and there a vacant chair.

Chester recovered consciousness fully alert to what was going on about him. He took in the situation at a glance, and a grim smile lighted up his face as his eyes fell upon the vacant chairs.

"Looks like I had done a fair job, at any rate," he told himself.

His gaze turned toward the chief's platform. The chief was there, but his head was swathed in bandages.

"Too bad I missed him!" Chester muttered. "He is evidently the ring-leader, and to have downed him would have been the proper thing."

Any further reflections the lad might have had were interrupted by the booming voice of the chief, who now rose to his feet.

"Prisoner, stand up!" he commanded.

Chester arose from the chair in which he had been seated. His arms were bound behind him and his feet had been tied together; still he found that he could stand.

"Prisoner," continued the chief, "your name!"

"Chester Crawford," was the lad's firm reply.

"And what are you doing in Belgium in these troublous days?"

"I am attached to the staff of the Belgian commander at Liege," was the boy's prompt response.

"But what are you doing in Louvain?"

"I came here with dispatches."

"So? And yet you are not a Belgian, I take it; nor yet, French. What, then? An Englishman?"

"No; I am an American," said Chester proudly.

"An American! Then how comes it that you are fighting for the enemies of Germany?"

"I am proud to be fighting for what I consider the right," said Chester simply.

"The right!" exclaimed the chief, in a loud voice. "Well, you shall soon see that you would have been better off had you stayed on the other side of the Atlantic."

Chester did not reply.

"Do you know what we are going to do with you?" continued the chief.

"No, and I don't care," was the lad's reply.

"We are going to kill you," said the chief calmly. "But first you will be given a hearing. We do not put even our enemies to death without a fair trial."

Chester laughed mockingly.

"A fair trial by such as you?" he exclaimed. "That is a joke. But go ahead with the farce, and let's have it over with as soon as possible."