CHAPTER XXV.
CHESTER AND JEAN.
Chester was confident that Hal could take care of his end of the affair, and he therefore allowed Jean to lead him along without protest. Jean became talkative as they walked along the dark streets.
"It should be easy," he said with enthusiasm. "All we have to do is to get close to the President in the crowd. Can you shoot?"
"A little," replied Chester briefly.
"I'm not a bad shot, either," said Jean. "So, if you should miss with your first shot, I'll turn loose myself. That will insure success."
"I have been thinking," said Chester, "how it would feel to be shot, and of what is likely to happen to us after we fire. What will the crowd do to us?"
"Oh, we'll get away, all right," said Jean.
"We'll never get away," said Chester solemnly. "We shall be torn to pieces before we can move a foot."
"I hadn't stopped to think of that," said Jean slowly.
"No, I suppose not," replied Chester. "Nevertheless, that is what is bound to happen. And they won't kill us on the spot, either. They'll put us to death slowly, by torture."
The lad looked sharply at his companion. Plainly this was an aspect of the case which had not occurred to Jean. He shuddered.
"Do you realize what we are about to do?" Chester went on. "We are going to shoot down, in cold blood, the President of France; the President of our own country. The crowd will go wild. We shall be torn limb from limb."
"Stop it! Stop it!" cried Jean. "Would you have me lose my nerve?"
"And besides," continued Chester, "what has the President done to us that we should seek his life?"
"But," said Jean, "we shall have gold."
"And what good will gold do us after we are dead?"
"True," said Jean. "It won't do us much good, will it?"
"It won't do us any good," said Chester.
"But," said Jean, "Duval must have thought of all that. He—"
"Duval knows as well as you or I what will happen to us should we assassinate the President," said Chester. "He will have that much more gold for himself."
"Still, we may manage to escape," said Jean hopefully.
"And if we do," said Chester sternly, "what then? Do you suppose Duval will keep faith with us? There will be such a hue and cry as Paris never heard before. Duval will turn us over to the authorities to save his own skin."
"If I thought that," said Jean, "I—"
"Besides," interrupted Chester, "we shall only be aiding the Germans, and not ourselves, and how long do you suppose the Apaches will be allowed to live should the Germans invade Paris?"
"Why—" began Jean, but Chester interrupted again.
"One of their first steps would be to annihilate us," said Chester. "They would ravage the city, tear it into little pieces. Remember, it is our own home, yours and mine. Would you like to see that?"
"No," replied Jean, "but—"
"No matter how you look at it," continued Chester, "you and I are sure to get the worst of it. Now, I don't know about you; but I am going to have nothing to do with the plot."
Jean did not reply for some moments, and they walked along in silence for several blocks. Finally the little man replied:
"But I have been ordered to shoot you if you fail to carry out your end of the work."
"In which event," replied Chester calmly, "you would also have to assassinate the President, and would yourself be killed."
"Then what am I to do?" cried Jean, now greatly alarmed.
"Follow my example, and have no hand in the matter," said Chester.
"It might be done," said Jean slowly, "for Duval himself will be present to-morrow, and, when he sees we have failed, he will do the deed himself."
"Then we must prevent that also."
"What! Why?"
"Because, should the President fall before any hand—yours, mine, Duval's or another's—we should still meet the same fate; for the city would be dragged by the troops and police and not an Apache left alive. No, the President must be warned."
"But that is treachery!" cried the little man.
"Is it treachery to save the President of your country from the hands of an assassin?" demanded Chester, and answered his own question: "No!"
The two paused on a street corner, and there, for perhaps ten minutes, Jean stood wrapped in thought. Finally he spoke, and there was a different tone in his voice.
"I believe," he said quietly, "that we have both learned a lesson. There must be in us, after all, a spark of loyalty. No! We cannot assassinate the President, nor can we stand idly by while he is shot down. He must be warned."
Chester grasped the little Apache by the hand.
"I knew I could make you see it that way!" he exclaimed. "Good! Now, come with me, and we shall give the warning at once."
"Where to?" demanded Jean.
Chester looked at him carefully a single moment, and a doubt of the man's sincerity came to him. Therefore he replied cautiously:
"Never mind. Just follow me; and if you mean what you say, warning shall be given at once."
For a moment Jean hesitated, then followed Chester down the street.
Chester's sense of direction now stood him in good stead. Not once in all his wandering about had he lost a general idea of where lay the Hotel de Ville, and he now steered a course in that direction. He finally came into view of the building, and here Jean hung back.
"What's the matter?" demanded Chester, as the little man stopped.
"We can't go in there," was the reply. "They won't let us speak. We'll be thrown into jail and kept there."
"Oh, no, we won't," said Chester. "Leave it to me. Come on."
A sudden suspicion struck Jean.
"Tell me," he cried, and grasped the lad fiercely by the arm, "are you a detective?"
"No," replied Chester calmly. "What made you think that?"
"I don't know," was the reply, "but the suspicion came to me and I could not down it. I will have nothing to do with a detective."
"Well," said Chester, "I am no detective; but"—he paused and laid his hand on Jean's arm—"I am a French army officer!"
"A spy!" cried Jean, and freed his arm.
"A spy, if you choose to call me one," said Chester, "but still your friend, for I believe you have come to your senses."
"I know," cried Jean, "you want to get me locked up!"
He stepped quickly backward, turned, took to his heels and ran.
Chester was after him like a flash, and as he ran he muttered to himself:
"Great Scott! I can't let him get away. He is sure to believe he has been imposed upon, and undoubtedly will warn the others!"
The little Apache was fleet of foot, but still not so fleet as was Chester. Within the block the lad overtook the fugitive and his hand grasped the other by the collar.
"Now," he said quietly, "you shall come with me, whether you will or not.
I mean you no harm, and, if you do as I say, you will be all right."
Jean was not convinced, however, and continued his desperate struggles to free himself. But Chester was too strong for him, and with some difficulty he succeeded in dragging the little man back to the Hotel de Ville, and inside, where both were seized by half a dozen French troopers.
"Call General Gallieni at once," demanded Chester.
The officer in command laughed at him.
"Ha! Ha! Ha!" he laughed. "Look who wants to see the general."
He motioned to two of his men, who started to drag the prisoners toward an open door, beyond which, as Chester surmised, lay cells.
Chester shook himself free with a single movement and turned upon the
French captain.
"I am an army officer," he said quietly, "and am engaged in a piece of work at General Gallieni's own suggestion. You will summon him immediately."
The French officer was somewhat surprised at this, but he was not quite convinced.
"How am I to know that you speak the truth?" he asked skeptically.
"Because I say so," replied Chester quietly, taking a step forward.
The French officer also advanced a step.
"It is my belief that you seek the general for some ulterior purpose," he said with a sneer, and, before Chester realized what he was about to do, the officer raised his hand and slapped him soundly across the face. "Take them away," he ordered his men.
The blow in the face stung Chester to action.
With a quick spring he avoided the soldiers who would have seized him and leaped upon the French officer, whom he sent to the floor with a single blow of his fist. The officer rose slowly to his feet, drawing his revolver as he did so.
"You dog!" he cried, and raised his weapon.
But he did not fire, for at that moment there came from directly behind him the command in a ringing voice:
"Put down that weapon! What's the meaning of this?"
General Gallieni stood in the doorway. The officer turned and saluted.
"These dogs," he said, indicating Chester and Jean, who were now held by the soldiers, "insulted me. I refused to allow them to see you, and one of them struck me. I believe they came to assassinate you."
The general took a step back, for he had not recognized Chester.
"To assassinate me?" he exclaimed.
"You are wrong, General," said Chester quietly, "I have returned with information that will prevent the assassination of the President."
"Lieutenant Crawford!" ejaculated the general. "The President is to be assassinated, you say?"
"Yes, sir."
"When?"
"At noon to-morrow, when he speaks on the Palace steps."
"And perhaps you know who has been selected to kill him?"
"Yes, sir; I do," replied Chester quietly. "I have, sir!"