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
troops in his path. The lads could see that his face was red, and that he
was puffing and snorting from lack of breath. Not perceiving the men who
barred his path, he would have dashed right in among them had not Hal
brought him to a sudden stop with a word of command.
"Halt!" he cried.
With a gasp of amazement the man halted and gazed at the British as
though bewildered. One look he gave them and then exclaimed in a shrill
piping voice, in English:
"You are surrounded! Run, Anthony, run!"
He suited the action to the word, and, turning in his tracks, ran,
puffing and blowing, in the direction from which he had come.
In spite of his merriment at this comical sight, Hal put spurs to his
horse and dashed after him. The others did likewise. Hearing the sounds
of pursuit, the little stout man redoubled his efforts and puffed on like
an engine.
Hal ranged his horse alongside of him, and, restraining his laughter,
shouted in a stern tone:
"Halt! or you are a dead man!"
The little man needed no further warning.
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