"
"Oh, no, we won't," said Chester. "Leave it to me. Come on."
A sudden suspicion struck Jean.
"Tell me," he cried, and grasped the lad fiercely by the arm, "are you a
detective?"
"No," replied Chester calmly. "What made you think that?"
"I don't know," was the reply, "but the suspicion came to me and I could
not down it. I will have nothing to do with a detective."
"Well," said Chester, "I am no detective; but"--he paused and laid his
hand on Jean's arm--"I am a French army officer!"
"A spy!" cried Jean, and freed his arm.
"A spy, if you choose to call me one," said Chester, "but still your
friend, for I believe you have come to your senses."
"I know," cried Jean, "you want to get me locked up!"
He stepped quickly backward, turned, took to his heels and ran.
Chester was after him like a flash, and as he ran he muttered to himself:
"Great Scott! I can't let him get away. He is sure to believe he has been
imposed upon, and undoubtedly will warn the others!"
The little Apache was fleet of foot, but still not so fleet as was
Chester.
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