A second revolver suddenly flashed in the hand of the man in the bed, and he cried in a stern voice:

"Hands up!"

Hal, taken absolutely by surprise, could do nothing but obey.

"You see the tables are turned again," said the man in the bed pleasantly. "You should always remember that a man may keep one of his revolvers under his pillow."

Hal was crestfallen, and he showed it plainly. However, he still held his own weapons in his upraised hands, and he had no mind to release the weapons if there was any way in which he could avoid it.

"Put those guns on the table, and be quick about it," ordered his enemy and slipped from the bed to the floor.

Hal advanced slowly toward the table, and laid down the revolver he held in his right hand. The man in the bed took a step toward him. It was the moment for which the lad had been waiting and he acted instantly.

Slowly his weapon came down, and then it suddenly flashed in the Apache's face as the lad's hand pressed the trigger.

A miss was impossible. Hal had made up his mind that he would trifle with his opponent no longer. He realized fully that his own life depended upon his getting the upper hand and that it was no time to be squeamish.

Accordingly, when the opportunity presented itself, he fired pointblank in his opponent's face. The latter threw up his hands, gave out a single loud scream of pain, and toppled backward to the floor in a heap.

Hal bent over him. "Dead," he said simply. "Now to get out of this."

He left the house and made his way with all speed toward the Hotel de Ville. But he had not gone a block when he beheld, in a little store he was pa.s.sing, a scene of confusion. The lad stopped and peered in. He made out Chester's figure and, instantly realizing his danger, dashed forward.

He arrived just in time to catch an uplifted arm that would have crushed Chester's head with a heavy wrench.

CHAPTER XXIX.

THE DEATH OF DUVAL.

"What's going on here?" cried Hal angrily, as he twisted sharply on the upraised arm.

The man who held the wrench writhed in pain beneath the lad's strong fingers and he dropped the wrench and turned on Hal angrily.

"What business is it of yours?" he demanded.

"I've made it my business," said Hal. "He is a friend of mine."

Unmindful of the threatening gestures of the others, he stooped and gently lifted Chester's head. The latter was not badly hurt, and he was soon upon his feet.

"Where did he go?" he cried excitedly.

"Where did who go?" asked Hal.

"Duval--the man I was chasing. He attempted to a.s.sa.s.sinate the President."

A cry of surprise went up from those surrounding the two lads, and they pressed forward with eager questions. No longer were they enemies of the two lads. Word that an attempt had been made on the life of the President caused them to forget other troubles.

"He went that way," said one of them, pointing.

"After him," cried another, and the crowd dashed forward. Others of the mob that had given chase arrived by this time and also continued the chase.

"There is no use running after him," said Hal, as Chester also would have continued the pursuit.

"But we must get him!"

"I have an idea that I shall be able to find him," said Hal quietly.

"You know where he is?"

"I think I know where he will seek refuge."

Quickly he related his experiences to Chester.

"Come on, then," cried the latter eagerly. "Let's get away before he gets back, finds his friend dead and leaves the house."

The lads hurried forward and, by going directly toward the house, arrived there before the first of the crowd came into view.

Even as Hal had expected, Duval, believing that he had eluded his pursuers, made a detour and entered his home from a side entrance. From an upper window, a few moments later, he saw the first of the crowd. They had no idea he was in the house and went dashing by. He did not see the forms of the two lads across the street.

"I guess I'm safe enough for a while," he said to himself.

He made his way toward the bedroom, where he surmised his lieutenant would be sleeping. He entered the room, took a single look and staggered back.

His eyes had fallen upon the inert body of his aide.

Quickly he bent over him and felt his pulse.

"Dead!" he exclaimed.

He stood silent, struck by a sudden thought. Quickly he descended the steps into the cellar and approached the room where Hal had been left to die. The door was open and water trickled from within.

Duval uttered no word but, turning quickly, dashed up the steps. Once more he looked from the window, and the first figures upon which his eyes rested were Hal and Chester.

The boys, in the meantime, had halted the mad crowd and briefly explained that the object of their search was in the house. They were engaged in this occupation when Duval peered from the window the second time.

The Apache chief smiled grimly to himself. He produced his automatic and aimed at the two lads. His finger tightened on the trigger.

"Crack!"

Hal's cap seemed to leap from his head, and instinctively all of the crowd ducked. Then, with a terrible roar, they charged straight at the house.

But Duval, standing in an upper window, emptied one automatic into the howling mob and then another.

The crowd drew back.