CHAPTER V.

ANTHONY STUBBS, WAR CORRESPONDENT.


"Now, what in the name of all that's wonderful do you suppose is the
matter with him?" ejaculated Chester.

Hal shrugged his shoulders expressively.

"You've got me," he admitted; "but by the look of him he's not
running for fun."

"Right," agreed Captain Anderson; "but whatever is on his trail will have
to travel pretty lively to catch him. Look at him come!"

As the stranger dashed toward them, head hanging and arms working like
pistons, the three friends suddenly broke into a loud laugh. A more
comical-looking specimen of humanity would be hard to imagine. The
friends looked him over carefully as he came on.

Large he was, there could be no mistake about that, but he seemed to be
about as wide as he was long. Hal and Chester took in his dimensions
with an appraising eye. Stout and chubby, he must have weighed all of
200 pounds, and his height, the lads saw, could not be more than five
feet four.

As he tore down the road as fast as his peculiar build would permit, he
did not once raise his head, and therefore did not perceive the British