“I’ve got to move now!” exclaimed the lad.

Taking a firm hold on the rope, he swung himself outward, giving his flight through space an added impetus by pushing with his right foot.  He went sailing through the air, even as a pistol shot rang out behind him.

Chester had calculated truly.  Headfirst he crashed among the branches of a tree, at the far side of the walk.  Instantly he released his hold upon the rope and was safe in the tree.

“I thought I could do it,” he muttered.  “Now to get down before some of these fellows get after me.”

Rapidly he made his descent, and a few moments later stood upon the sidewalk, unhurt.  For a moment he paused to gain a much-needed breath, and then, turning, he stalked quickly away.  And as he did so there came cries from within the hotel, and men rushed out and after him.

Chester took to his heels.

“I don’t know whether they saw me on the street or not,” he told himself, “but the safest place for me is a long way from that hotel.”

He doubled around several corners, and at last, as he turned into a more traveled street, he slowed down to a walk.  He drew a long breath.

“Guess I have shaken them,” he said.  “Now, if I only knew where I was, I might manage to get out of here.  Guess I had better pick one direction and keep going that way.  I’ll trust to luck that it is either north or west.”

He turned down the next street and set out resolutely, having determined in his mind to stick to the direction he had selected.  Fortunately, although the lad could not be sure of it, he was heading northward, where, eventually, he would reach the Italian frontier, although it was much further away than was the western border.

Chester walked along for an hour without even being challenged.

“Funny, too,” he muttered.  “It’s a wonder every street corner doesn’t spout soldiers and police at me.  I must be getting to be rather a lucky young man.”

He had now reached a less thickly populated district.  There were few pedestrians upon the streets, houses became farther and farther apart.  An occasional automobile passed him, but no attention was paid to the hurrying figure.

Chester slowed down a trifle as he made out a form approaching.  As it drew closer Chester noticed it was a uniformed figure.  He drew a deep breath.

“Looks like there was liable to be something doing here,” he muttered.

He continued his way.  The officer, for such Chester perceived the man to be, drew closer.  As Chester would have passed him, he suddenly stopped in his tracks, and commanded: 

“Halt!”

Chester did so.

“Who are you?” demanded the man, “and where are you going?”

To Chester’s great relief, he spoke in German, and the lad replied in the same language, which he spoke without an accent.

“I am on an errand for the ambassador, sir.  A prisoner has recently escaped, and I am bearing word to the outposts to be on the watch for him.”