“What, you have been in Berlin before?” questioned the German officer in some surprise.

“Oh, yes,” said Hal.  “We spent one vacation here with my mother.”

He thought it best not to let the German know how they had escaped from the German capital following the outbreak of the war.  Chester also made no reference to this.

All the streets which the taxi traversed were familiar to the boys now, and they pointed out different places of interest to each other as they sped along.  Finally the taxi drew up and stopped.

The young German leaped lightly to the ground, and stood there as the boys emerged from the taxi.  Looking up, the lads beheld a handsome and commodious house.

“My home,” said the lieutenant simply, “and yours, so long as you are forced to remain in Berlin.”

The lads followed their captor up the steps, and into a prettily furnished hall, where a servant, summoned by the officer, hurried away with word for Mrs. Strauss, for, as Lieutenant Heinrich Strauss, the officer now introduced himself to the boys.

A few moments later a pleasant-faced woman appeared in the hall.  The boys were quickly introduced to her, and she made them welcome, adding: 

“I am sure the general also will be pleased to have you with us.”

Both lads looked questioningly at the young officer, who hastened to explain.

“General Strauss is my father, in command in Berlin.  Perhaps were it not for that, I would not have ventured to bring you to my home.  You would have to have gone with the other prisoners.”

“Thanks,” said Chester.  “I am sure we both appreciate it.”

“Indeed we do,” agreed Hal.

Before either the young lieutenant or his mother could reply, there came a heavy footstep without; a moment later the door was thrown quickly open, and a German officer, huge in stature, and imposing in his uniform, draped with gold and lace, strode in.  At sight of the two boys he came to a sudden pause.

“What have we here?” he demanded, in a great, booming voice.

“Two of my prisoners, sir,” said the lieutenant, stepping forward and saluting.

“Your prisoners, sir?  Do you mean that they are spies whom you have captured in Berlin?”

“No, sir.  They came with the last trainload of prisoners.”

“Then, why are they not with the others?” demanded General Strauss sternly.

“Why, sir,” stammered the lieutenant, “I—­I—­”

“Enough,” said the general in a softer voice, his eyes twinkling although this he endeavored in vain to hide.  “You mean that you are up to some of your old tricks—­that your sympathies have gotten the upper hand of your better judgment.  Do you know what I should do with you, sir?”

The lieutenant made no reply, and the father continued: 

“I should have you court-martialed for disobeying the command of your superior officer.  But I won’t do it this time.  However, it is a very good thing that our emperor—­God bless him—­is a very good friend of your father.  Otherwise—­”