"You are no German!" was his quiet comment. "You are probably a spy. You are my prisoner!"

Chester's heart sank.

CHAPTER XVI.

A FRIEND IN NEED.

Many thoughts ran through Chester's head as he stood there for a brief moment with the hand of the man who had accosted him on his shoulder. He thought of flight and he thought of fight, but most of all he thought of the ill fortune he had encountered in the past few days.

"This is the limit," he told himself ruefully. Aloud he said: "You are mistaken, sir."

"No, I'm not mistaken," returned the officer, "and I suppose most would take you at your word. You speak German without an accent, but your face betrays you. At a guess, I would say you are English."

"You are wrong," declared Chester.

"Nevertheless, I shall have to ask you to accompany me," said the officer.

For a moment Chester hesitated; he was tempted to leap upon his captor and make a fight for it, but he had hesitated too long now. The officer produced a revolver, which he held carelessly in his right hand.

"I have a little persuader here, in case you should think of disobeying my order," he said quietly.

"Oh, all right," said Chester. "I'll go along."

"I thought you would," replied his captor, with a smile.

He motioned for Chester to walk on ahead of him, which the boy did, the while grumbling to himself.

"I should have run when I saw him coming," he muttered.

There was little doubt in Chester's mind now that he was due for his trip to Vienna with the amba.s.sador. After that, in view of his attempt to escape, he wasn't sure what might happen, for he believed the amba.s.sador would recall his offer of a safe conduct after this.

"Yes, it looks like Vienna to me," he told himself.

And so it probably would have been but for one thing--or rather, for one person; and Chester had no more idea of seeing him than he had of encountering Hal at the next cross street.

As the two walked along, Chester slightly in front, his captor following him closely with drawn revolver, a figure left the shadow of a nearby building, and with a whistle of amazement, crept silently in their wake.

"Well! Well!" muttered this figure to himself. "What do you think of that? I can't stand for this. I'm liable to get killed or hurt, but I've just got to take a hand."

As Chester and his captor turned into another street and disappeared from sight, the man broke into a run, stepping lightly on his toes. When he rounded the corner he was only a few feet behind the other two.

Silently as a cat, he closed up the distance, drawing a weapon from his pocket as he ran.

He took the revolver by the barrel, and with a sudden leap, sprang upon the officer who had captured Chester. A quick blow and the officer staggered. He seemed about to cry out, but even as he opened his mouth, the newcomer repeated the blow and the man fell to the sidewalk without a word.

"It's all right, Chester," said the newcomer.

Chester, who had stood as if petrified during the struggle--he was so surprised at this sudden and unexpected aid--uttered an exclamation of surprise.

"Who are you?" he asked, in vain trying to pierce the darkness with his eyes.

The stranger chuckled.

"You don't know, eh?" he asked.

Again Chester peered at him intently. It was so dark he could not make out the man's features, but there was something very familiar about the short, rotund figure that stood before him.

"By Jove!" cried the lad at last. "It is--it can't be--yes, it must be--"

"Anthony Stubbs, war correspondent of the New York _Gazette_, sir, and very much at your service," came the now well-known voice.

Chester sprang forward and seized the extended hand.

"And what in the name of all that's wonderful are you doing here?" he asked in amazement.

"Getting some red-hot news for the New York _Gazette_," was Stubbs'

laconic response. "You are liable to find me most any place. As I told you before, there is no place a newspaper man cannot go. Now, what's all this mess I find you in?"

Chester explained and Stubbs listened attentively.

"Hm-m-m," he said, when the lad had concluded, "I guess the best thing for you to do is to hop back into Italy as fast as the law allows."

"My idea," said Chester dryly. "The trouble is it's a pretty long hop, and in the next place the Austrian law doesn't allow it."

"That's so," agreed Stubbs. "However, you just leave these little things to Anthony. He'll get you through or the New York _Gazette_ will lose its best man."

"Well, I hope the _Gazette_ doesn't lose him," said Chester; "but I would like to get back into civilization."

"Civilization?" echoed the little man. "And what do you call this? Let one of these uniformed gentleman on this side of the border hear you say that and you won't ever get any place except under the sod. This, take the Austrian word for it, is the last word in civilization. Therefore, what you mean is that you want to get out of civilization."

"Whichever way suits you," agreed Chester.

"All right. Then you come with me. It's time to be moving, anyhow. This fellow is getting about ready to get up and there is no use of our being here to greet him when he opens his eyes. Let's go."

He led the way back toward the heart of the city and Chester followed, though not without a protest.

"What's the use of going back there?" he wanted to know. "That's the place I have been trying to get away from."

"Now listen here, young man," said Stubbs, "you didn't have much luck getting away by yourself, did you?"

"No," replied Chester, "but--"

"And you won't have any better now, if you don't do as I say," declared Stubbs. "But I'll tell you. I am leaving here myself in the morning. I am going to Italy. I've dug up all the stuff I can get around here and now I'm going to have a look at the Italian army in action. If you wish, you can come along."

"Of course I'll come," said Chester. "That is, if they will let me."