The others lent a hand and dragged the unwilling captive forward. As they
would have put him on the blanket, the youngster--for such the captive
proved to be--protested.

"Some other time, fellows," he said. "I'm sick to-night. I hadn't ought
to be out at all, but I couldn't stay in the tent any longer. I'll let
you toss me in the blanket some other time, but please let me alone
to-night."

From where Hal and Chester stood it was plain to see that the boy was
telling the truth. His face was deathly pale and he looked very ill.

"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.