Chester followed the man who had opened the door down a dark hallway, and into a dimly lighted room.  Masked as he was, the boy had little fear of being discovered, but his hand rested on his automatic in his right-hand coat pocket.

Inside the room Chester perceived a circle of dark faces, stretching almost around the room.  At one side, facing the circle, was a raised platform, and on this sat a huge bulk of a man, masked, as were all the others.

They all rose as Chester entered the room, and without a word the boy made his way to the one vacant seat.  The conspirators then resumed their seats, and Chester sat down also, four chairs away from where the chief himself sat.

“Number One,” called the chief, and the man nearest him on Chester’s side arose.  “What have you to report?”

“Everything is ready, sir.  As you know, I am on the staff of the Belgian commander.  With the information I shall impart to him at the proper time to-morrow, the main force of Belgian troops will be withdrawn from the northern part of the city and the surprise will be complete.”

“You are sure?  There is no chance of failure?”

“Not the slightest, sir.”

“Good!” said the chief, and the first man resumed his seat.

“Number Two,” called the chief, and the second man arose.

By his first words Chester recognized the man who had first spoken at the home of Edna Johnson.

“And what have you to report?” demanded the chief.

“That word has been sent to attack at five o’clock,” was the reply.  “I have received an answer, showing that my message was delivered without mishap.”

“Good!” boomed the chief again.  “That is all.”

Number Two resumed his seat.

“Number Three!” called the chief.

The man next to Chester rose to his feet.

“Your report,” commanded the chief.

“I have to report, sir, that the thousand men sent to me have all arrived.  They came singly, and the last one arrived shortly before I came here.  They are all armed and are quartered in vacant houses on Brussels Street, at the southern extremity of the city.  They are awaiting the word.”

The chief nodded, and the third man sat down.

“Number Four!” called the chief.

Chester rose to his feet, as had the others.

“And you, sir?” demanded the chief.  “Is your report satisfactory?”

Chester was thinking rapidly.  He was in the most ticklish situation he had ever faced, and he was fully aware of it.  He knew now that there was not one chance in a thousand of his escaping detection.  But the lad did not falter, and his right hand grasped the handle of his automatic more firmly, as he made reply: 

“Entirely so, sir,” and then paused.

“Well, well!” shouted the chief.  “Explain!”

Chester drew a deep breath, and took a haphazard shot: