He stopped so quickly that Hal
rode on beyond him, while those behind were able to check their horses
barely in time to keep from riding over him.
Hal leaped to the ground, and stood over the stranger, who lay panting on
the earth where he had fallen the moment he stopped running.
"Who are you?" demanded Hal. "What are you doing here?"
The little man struggled in vain to reply; but he gasped so wildly for
breath that for a moment he was unable to utter a word. Then, as he still
panted, his eye fell upon the uniforms of the British troopers. He was on
his feet in a moment.
"I thought you were Germans!" he exclaimed. "Great Caesar's ghost! I
didn't think I could run another step, but I did; and here I was running
from you fellows. What do you mean by chasing an American citizen down
the road?"
He paused and glared at Hal wrathfully. The latter could control
his merriment no longer, and burst into a hearty laugh. The others
did likewise.
The little man drew himself up indignantly.
"I say!" he exclaimed, "what are you fellows laughing at me for?"
Hal ceased laughing, and his face took on a stern expression.
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