"Don't know," was the reply, "but it's a long ways. We're not more than 70 miles from Berlin."
Several times during the next few hours they were halted, but were permitted to pass on, after showing their passports. Apparently the Berlin authorities had not wired ahead, and Hal was unable to account for this satisfactorily.
"Something peculiar about it," he muttered, as he bent over the wheel.
For the next few hours the automobile proceeded on its way without interruption, save for a single stop to replenish gasoline and air.
It was well along toward evening when Stubbs announced that the Dutch frontier was only a few miles distant. Once over the line they would be comparatively safe.
A foreboding of trouble swept over Hal.
Chester had slept during most of the trip thus far. McKenzie had examined the lad carefully and discovered that he was suffering from a flesh wound in the left side. The Canadian had bound this up as well as he could as the automobile jostled along.
His experienced eye told him there was nothing dangerous about the wound. It was painful, of course, and Chester would naturally be stiff in body for some time; but, providing the wound was kept clean, there was no danger of infection.
Now, at Hal's injunction, Stubbs aroused Chester. The lad opened his eyes slowly.
"How do you feel, old man?" asked McKenzie.