The fighting became fast and terrific.  The weight of numbers was beginning to tell, and suddenly Chester went down before a heavy smash on the jaw.  He was badly shaken up, but was not unconscious.  As he scrambled to his feet, the clear sound of a whistle shattered the night.  Immediately the fighting stopped and the assailants drew back.

“Les Gendarmes!” exclaimed one, and took to his heels, followed by the rest.

“Les Gendarmes!” exclaimed the little man to whose assistance the lads had come. “Voila!”

Chester got to his feet quickly, and, with Hal, dashed forward upon the heels of the little man.  Round corner after corner, through dark streets and darker alleys he ran, the lads following close behind him.  Finally, out of breath and tired of limb and body, he came to a halt in a secluded spot in a narrow street.

The lads came to a stop beside him.  The man immediately threw himself upon the ground and the lads did likewise.  Here, for a few moments, all lay silent, panting.

Finally the little man spoke.

“You came to my aid just in time,” he said, “and I thank you.  But for you I should have been killed.”

“Killed!” exclaimed Hal.  “And why would they have killed you?”

“Because,” said the little man, “I myself picked the pocket of a man whom one of their number was trailing.”

“I see,” said Chester, manifesting no surprise, for he was well aware that the street Arab had taken them for his own kind.  To have betrayed surprise would have been to invite suspicion.

“Now,” said the little man, “we shall have to hide.  The police will be scouring the neighborhood.  Have you a refuge handy?”

“No,” said Hal.

“Then you shall come with me.”  He hesitated a moment, then added:  “Which do you love best, your country or gold?”

Hal took a long chance.

“Gold,” he said briefly.

The little man slapped him familiarly on the back.

“As all true Apaches!” he exclaimed. “Bien!  Then you shall come with me.”

He led the way along the dark street and the lads followed him.

CHAPTER XXIII.

THE APACHE DEN.

Before a low-lying, tumble-down wooden shack of but a single story the little man paused and glanced furtively about.  Then he darted quickly up the steps, and, motioning to the lads to follow him, disappeared within.

Inside Hal and Chester found themselves in what appeared to be a narrow passageway.  It was damp and evil-smelling and the darkness was intense.  The lads were unable to see a yard in front of them.  The voice of the little man pierced the darkness.

“Come,” he said, and the lads advanced in the darkness.

They came presently to a flight of stairs, leading down, and they descended slowly, feeling their way that they might not fall.  At the bottom there was still nothing but darkness.  Here their guide was waiting for them and allowed them to pass.  A moment and there came to the ears of the lads a dull clang, as if a heavy iron door had been closed behind them.