At a little restaurant only three or four blocks away they were soon comfortably filled. Hal was on the point of suggesting that they turn in for the night when a figure entering the door caught his eye.
"By all that's wonderful," he exclaimed, "here comes Anthony Stubbs."
Hal was right. The little war correspondent espied the lads at the same moment and hurried toward them with outstretched hand.
"I'm awfully glad to see you boys again," he exclaimed. "What brings you here, if I may ask?"
"Sit down, Mr. Stubbs," said Hal. "Have something to eat with us."
"Thanks: don't mind if I do. But I repeat, what are you doing here?"
"How long have you been in town, Mr. Stubbs?" asked Chester, ignoring the little man's question.
"About fifteen minutes, more or less. But I say, what are you doing here? This is the third time I've asked that question."
"Then don't ask it again, Mr. Stubbs," replied Chester.
"Oh, I see," smiled Stubbs. "Can't answer, eh? Well, I'll wager another hat with somebody that I can tell you why you're here."