"You remark a whole lot on the style of Anthony Stubbs, if you ask me," declared Chester. "Come on, let's go into the hotel."
Hal made sure that his revolvers were ready in his pockets before he followed Chester through the door. Both lads kept their caps well over their eyes, for while there was little danger of their being suspected, their countenances lacked the heavy sluggishness of the Germans—a fact which should it be noticed, might call for questions.
At one side of the small lobby was a desk. Chester approached it. A man rose to greet him.
"We want a room for the night," said Chester gruffly in German, using the commanding and ill-bred tone always affected by German officers in talking to inferiors in rank or civilians.
The man threw wide his arms.
"I'm sorry, Herr Captain," he said humbly, "but all the rooms are occupied."
"What!" said Chester angrily. "I said that my friend and I desire a room, and a room we will have if we have to trundle your guests out into the street."
"But——" protested the hotel clerk.
"Silence!" thundered Chester. "Now answer me. You have a room of your own, have you not?"
"Yes, Herr Captain, but——"