Part 8 (1/2)

This shot was followed by a startled cry as a figure leaped to its feet and started off through the woods at full speed.

Hal sprang to his feet.

”Halt!” he cried.

The figure seemed to run faster than before.

Hal paused and leveled his revolver in deliberate aim. His finger tightened on the trigger--then, suddenly he let his arm fall.

”Stubbs!” he cried in amazement.

The running figure was indeed the little war correspondent.

”By Jove!” muttered Hal. ”Another moment and I would have shot him.” He raised his voice in a shout: ”Hey, Stubbs!”

But the little man ran on, unheeding.

”He'll run right smack into that other fellow if he doesn't watch out,”

Hal told himself. ”Well, I suppose I'll have to stop him.”

Still holding his revolver in his right hand, he also broke into a run and made after the fleeing Stubbs.

Several times he called, but Stubbs paid no heed. Then Hal grew angry.

”I'll get you if I have to chase you right back to the door of the _New York Gazette_” he muttered to himself.

He gained at every stride and was rapidly overtaking the war correspondent, although Stubbs, with head lowered, looking neither to the right nor to the left, his arms working like pistons, ran blindly on.

Suddenly Hal stopped almost in his tracks and his heart leaped into his throat.

From behind a tree directly in Stubbs' path, stepped a short squat figure, with great long arms dangling at its side. A revolver was clasped in the right hand and the weapon was slowly raised until it covered Stubbs.

Hal gave a loud cry of warning, raised his own revolver and fired. But even as his finger tightened on the trigger he knew he had missed. Stubbs was so close to the other figure that the lad had been afraid of hitting him. Consequently the bullet went wild.

But though it missed its mark, Hal's bullet undoubtedly saved Stubbs'

life, for it attracted the attention of the enemy for a brief moment; and in that moment, Anthony Stubbs, still unaware of the danger that confronted him, dashed head first into his would-be slayer.

So great was the force of the impact that both were hurled to the ground.

With rare presence of mind, Stubbs, recovering his breath before his unexpected opponent realized what had happened, reached out and procured the other's revolver and hurled it aside.

Then he attempted to get to his feet, but at this point the other came back to life and seized him by the legs.

”Hey! Leggo my legs!” shouted Stubbs.

The other held him tightly.

”Let me up!” cried Stubbs again.