“Well,” said Stubbs, “I don’t—­hey! what’re you trying to do, anyhow?”

For the little man again had been hurled violently against Chester as Hal sent the car forward with a lurch.  “Trying to leave me behind?  What?”

“Can’t be done, Mr. Stubbs,” said Chester.

Mr. Stubbs glared at the lad angrily, but deigned to make no reply.  So the big army automobile continued on its way in silence.

Darkness fell.  Hal stopped the car and lighted the lamps.

“Can’t take any chances while going at this speed,” he said.

Stubbs grinned feebly to himself, seemed as if about to speak, then thought better of it and remained silent.  But he waved a hand in disgust.

A moment later the car was rushing through the darkness at the speed of an express train; and while this journey in the night continues it will be well to explain the presence of the three companions in the big army car, how they came there and why, and the nature of the mission upon which they were bound.

A month before the three had been in the Balkans.  There the two lads, together with Anthony Stubbs, had gone through many dangerous adventures, finally reaching Greek soil in the nick of time, with a horde of Bulgarians just behind them.  With them had been others—­Ivan, a Cossack, a third British officer and a young girl.  Ivan had elected to join the Anglo-French forces at Salonika; the other British officer had found his own regiment there and the girl, whom it had been the good fortune of the boys to save from the Bulgarians, found friends in the Greek city who had taken her in charge.

Hal, Chester and Stubbs had embarked on a French battleship, homeward bound.  After due time they landed in Marseilles.

“Now,” said Chester, when he once more felt French soil under his feet, “I suppose the thing for us to do is to return to the Italian lines and see if we can learn anything of Uncle John, then return to Rome and to New York.”

Uncle John was the brother of Chester’s mother.  All had been bound for home when Hal and Chester had become involved in a matter that took them forward with the Italian troops.  Uncle John had been along to keep them out of mischief, if he could.  He hadn’t succeeded and had fallen into the hands of the Austrians.  The boys had saved him.  Later they had been forced to seek refuge in the Balkans, having found it impossible to get back into the Italian lines, and they had lost Uncle John.  Their arrival in Marseilles had really been the first step toward a return to Rome, where they intended to try and find their mothers.

But their plans to return to Rome did not materialize.  As Hal said:  “Luck was with us.”

In a little room in a Marseilles restaurant they had overheard a conversation between two men, plainly foreigners, that had resulted in their once more being sent on active service.  While they had been unable to gather all the details, they had learned enough to know that the German Crown Prince had laid careful plans for an attack on Verdun.  They had taken their information to the French commanding officer in Marseilles.  The latter had been somewhat skeptical, but Colonel Derevaux, an old friend of the boys, had arrived at the psychological moment and vouched for them.