boy might be in some fashion acting against him and in the
interests of Mike Hallo. Yet his manner contradicted that idea; he was
frank and open in his appearance. And, finally, there was no need for
Dick to feel that he was making any serious mistake in following him
now.

It was certain that the police _were_ working for Hallo, whether they
knew it or not, and it was equally certain that had he not dropped from
the window he would now be in their hands, and perhaps on his way to
Buda-Pesth. As it was, he was free for the moment at least.

Hot as was their pace, Dick's training as a scout enabled him to keep
track of their direction, roughly at least, and he knew that they were
going toward the river. Had he been a boy of the type too often seen
nowadays, born and brought up in a city, he would have been hopelessly
lost within a minute of the start, for his guide twisted and turned in a
bewildering fashion, plainly with the idea of making pursuit more
difficult for the police. At last the pace slackened, and the Servian
turned into a narrow alley. Dick followed, and they dropped into a
cellar. This was a damp, dark, filthy place, but they were not to stay
there. The Servian pressed a certain spot on what seemed to be a
perfectly blank wall, and it gave. Dick saw that there was a secret
panel, which swung around now and gave them entrance to a second cellar
of a very different aspect, as he saw when his companion struck a match.

This room, for a room it really was, was lined with match board, and
there was some sort of ventilation, for the air was fresh and pure, and,
moreover, in constant motion. The Servian lighted a lamp that hung from
a bracket on the wall, and then, as the light spread, Dick could see
what manner of refuge it was that they had reached.

Evidently it was intended for frequent use. There were two or three
chairs, a table, and a big, comfortable looking couch, covered with rugs
and cushions. Books were on the table, and on a shelf that ran around
two sides of the room, and on the table, too, were pens, ink and paper
in abundance.

"Now we are safe!" said the Servian. "This place has been used for two
or three years, and the police seem never to have suspected its
existence. I suppose you are curious?"

"I certainly am!" said Dick. "Who are you? And what are you doing here?
And--but go ahead! You'll tell me what you like, I suppose."

"My name is Stepan Dushan," said the other, with a laugh. "T