“What would you suggest?”

“Well, I don’t know.  Thought maybe we would take some German clothes along.”

“Might not be a bad idea, though we won’t put them on unless we have to.  I don’t want to be shot as a spy if I can help it.”

“Nor I. Don’t suppose there would be any use in taking civilian costumes?”

“I don’t know.  Guess it wouldn’t do any harm, though.  The more clothes the better.  We may need a change of costume most any time.”

“All right.  We’ll load up, if we can find what we want.”

“I guess there won’t be any trouble about that.”

The lad was right.  Soon they had a large army plane at their disposal and had stocked it with all they thought they would need in the way of clothing and food.  Then they returned to their own quarters.  Hal glanced at his watch.

“Only five o’clock,” he said.  “We’ve a good three hours yet.  We don’t want to go up until well after dark.  Let’s go out and have a look around.”

Chester was agreeable and they made their way from the tent.  They had walked about for probably an hour, when suddenly Hal took Chester by the coat sleeve.

“Look there!” he exclaimed.

Chester looked; and there, perhaps fifty yards away, was Anthony Stubbs, slinking along, now and then casting an eye at Hal and Chester.

“He’s seen us,” said Chester.  “Let’s have a little talk with him.  Maybe we can have some fun.”

It was the first time they had seen the little war correspondent since the talk in General Petain’s tent more than two months before.

“Come on, then,” said Hal.

They increased their stride; but Stubbs, with a quick glance over his shoulder, observed this and also increased his pace.

“He doesn’t want to see us, Hal,” said Chester, with a grin.

“I see he doesn’t,” Hal grinned back.  “Well, we want to see him.”  He raised his voice in a shout “Hey, there, Stubbs!”

The little man glanced quickly back over his shoulder.  Then, seeing that Hal and Chester were gaining on him, he broke into a run.

“After him, Hal!” cried Chester, and also broke into a run.

Hal followed suit.

Around turn after turn they darted after the little man, who was making the best time his short legs would permit.  At a word from Hal, Chester slowed down, for they didn’t want to catch Stubbs too easily.

“Let him run himself out,” Hal said.

And that was what the little man was doing.  His tongue was literally hanging out as Hal and Chester continued to gain slowly.  He was puffing like a locomotive and his arms were working like pistons.  Once or twice he staggered and it seemed to him that he could not run another step.  But he set his teeth and plodded on.

“I’ve got to get away,” he told himself.  “There is no knowing what these young ruffians will do to me.”

In vain he tried to increase his pace.  It could not be done.  Every step cost him an effort and it seemed that he could not take another.  He waddled crazily from one side to the other; and at last he came to a stop, and with what strength remained, he faced his pursuers and threw up his hands in an attitude of defense.