"Great Scott," said Hal, "they shouldn't torment him. He is telling
the truth."
"Certainly he is," Chester agreed. "I believe the boy is very ill."
But the young French boy's protest fell on unheeding ears.
With loud guffaws the men grabbed hold of the blanket and sent the
captive spinning aloft. Two, three times he rose and fell, and upon the
last was still in the blanket. Apparently the men who held the blanket
had not noticed this, however, for they were preparing to toss him aloft
again. But Hal had detected the lad's condition. He decided it was time
for some one to interfere, and as no one else apparently was ready to
call a halt on the proceeding, he determined to take a hand himself.
Quickly he shed his overcoat and then tossed off his jacket and passed
them to Chester.
"Hold 'em!" he said, and sprang forward.
At the edge of the circle he halted and gazed at the big Frenchman, who
had chanced to turn in his direction.
"Let the boy go," he said. "Can't you see that he is unconscious?"
The big Frenchman grinned at him. When Hal had taken off his coat, he had
removed all signs of his rank and the soldier had no means of knowing he
was an officer.
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