The good woman pointed out the road taken by Hal and Chester, never thinking for an instant that her son meant to harm them. A moment later young Dersi left the house; and soon the Germans were once more upon the trail of the two lads.
Hal and Chester hurried along as fast as their legs could carry them. It was now nearing dusk, and with each forward step they knew that they were that much closer to a place of safety. Darkness fell and still the two lads plodded onward.
At length, coming upon a small brook beside the road, they stopped to quench their thirst. Hal had risen to his feet and was waiting for Chester when from the rear once more came the faint “chug-chug” of a motorcycle, or motorcycles, the boys were unable to tell which.
Chester sprang to his feet.
“Here they come again,” he cried. “We were right. It is the traitor Dersi who has put them on our trail. Hustle!”
Side by side the two lads sprinted for a clump of trees almost directly ahead. They reached their friendly shelter just before the glare of a searchlight down the road gave evidence of the approach of their pursuers.
Once among the trees the boys dropped to the ground and became absolutely silent. A moment later and the band of Germans flashed by at terrific speed.
The boys arose to their feet and continued on their way, keeping in among the trees.
“We must be very careful,” Hal warned Chester. “When they fail to overtake us they are sure to return. When we hear them coming we’ll climb up a tree, or hunt a hole, or something. But we might as well go ahead as far as we can.”
“That seems the best way to me,” Chester agreed.