He took the revolver by the barrel, and with a sudden leap, sprang upon the officer who had captured Chester.  A quick blow and the officer staggered.  He seemed about to cry out, but even as he opened his mouth, the newcomer repeated the blow and the man fell to the sidewalk without a word.

“It’s all right, Chester,” said the newcomer.

Chester, who had stood as if petrified during the struggle—­he was so surprised at this sudden and unexpected aid—­uttered an exclamation of surprise.

“Who are you?” he asked, in vain trying to pierce the darkness with his eyes.

The stranger chuckled.

“You don’t know, eh?” he asked.

Again Chester peered at him intently.  It was so dark he could not make out the man’s features, but there was something very familiar about the short, rotund figure that stood before him.

“By Jove!” cried the lad at last.  “It is—­it can’t be—­yes, it must be—­”

“Anthony Stubbs, war correspondent of the New York Gazette, sir, and very much at your service,” came the now well-known voice.

Chester sprang forward and seized the extended hand.

“And what in the name of all that’s wonderful are you doing here?” he asked in amazement.

“Getting some red-hot news for the New York Gazette,” was Stubbs’ laconic response.  “You are liable to find me most any place.  As I told you before, there is no place a newspaper man cannot go.  Now, what’s all this mess I find you in?”

Chester explained and Stubbs listened attentively.

“Hm-m-m,” he said, when the lad had concluded, “I guess the best thing for you to do is to hop back into Italy as fast as the law allows.”

“My idea,” said Chester dryly.  “The trouble is it’s a pretty long hop, and in the next place the Austrian law doesn’t allow it.”

“That’s so,” agreed Stubbs.  “However, you just leave these little things to Anthony.  He’ll get you through or the New York Gazette will lose its best man.”

“Well, I hope the Gazette doesn’t lose him,” said Chester; “but I would like to get back into civilization.”

“Civilization?” echoed the little man.  “And what do you call this?  Let one of these uniformed gentleman on this side of the border hear you say that and you won’t ever get any place except under the sod.  This, take the Austrian word for it, is the last word in civilization.  Therefore, what you mean is that you want to get out of civilization.”

“Whichever way suits you,” agreed Chester.

“All right.  Then you come with me.  It’s time to be moving, anyhow.  This fellow is getting about ready to get up and there is no use of our being here to greet him when he opens his eyes.  Let’s go.”

He led the way back toward the heart of the city and Chester followed, though not without a protest.

“What’s the use of going back there?” he wanted to know.  “That’s the place I have been trying to get away from.”