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Hal reached out an arm and grabbed him. "Here," he said, "what are you following us for?" The man tried to free himself, but Hal held him tight. "If you'll let me loose, I'll explain," he said finally. Hal considered this a moment; then with a shrug of his shoulders released his hold. "Stand behind him, Chester," he said. Chester followed Hal's injunction, but the man made no effort to escape.
Radwin, fortunately, did not turn, but kept on until he had taken himself out of sight. Jack turned an inquiring glance on his chum's face. But Hal's warning look seemed to say: "Silence! Wait!" "What was the row about?" asked a stranger among those who had pressed about the boys. "Nothing," returned Eph Somers, shortly, glaring at his questioner.
"Working under an amateur journalist will just suit Sterne," observed Ellis, in a tone quite as offensive as Hal's. "Cut it out, Mac," suggested his principal. "There's no occasion for hard words." "Amateur isn't the hardest word in the dictionary," said Hal quietly. "Perhaps I'll become a professional in time." "Buying a newspaper doesn't make a newspaper man." "Well, I'm not too old to learn.
Some dried peas were threshed out also, but not so many of them, and they could be cooked soft again, after they were soaked in water. Then Hal's yellow corn was piled into two bushel baskets, and there were some of the ears left over.
Hal's artist friend, Professor Benton, was coming to see him and I wished it were May instead of November, for it seemed to me the outer attractions of our country home were much greater than the inner, and I could not see how he was to be entertained.
"A pink spot burned in Hal's cheeks; she felt the question a little beside the mark, and did not want to answer it. "She has rather a dull home, and is very poor, and I think she thought on the whole life would be improved if she were Dudley's wife." "And that is not the real sense?" insistently. "It certainly is not love." "Well, you haven't yet told me what is?"
The Germans reeled, and for a moment it seemed they would seek shelter once more; but they rallied and came on. But, as they came, a volley was poured into them from the rear. Hal's men, on the opposite side of the road, had advanced quickly, and again the Germans had been surprised.
"So you think there are gold-hunting tramps here?" asked the lollypop man, just before he got ready to go back to the mainland where he had left his red wagon and white horse. "Well, there are ragged men here tramps I suppose you could call them," answered Grandpa Martin. "But I don't know anything about gold. That's one of Hal's ideas."
"Hey," he called to Hal and Uncle John, "one of the big Austrians has grabbed me by the leg." "Kick him in the face," cried Hal, dancing excitedly about, and making vain attempts to jump up so he could reach the sill. Chester attempted to follow Hal's advice, but it was no use. Slowly he was dragged back through the window, and landed on the floor with a thud.
Men who had been witnesses of this little drama turned and slunk off, and Hal was given no clue as to its outcome. A couple of hours afterwards, Hal's jailer came up, this time without any bread and water. He opened the door and commanded the prisoner to "come along." Hal went downstairs, and entered Jeff Cotton's office. The camp-marshal sat at his desk with a cigar between his teeth.
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