Part 17 (2/2)

”Are you goin' to tell us?” he asked.

”No.”

”Don't you know?” He came a step nearer, and held the strap forward.

There was a long silence. The boy's face paled perceptibly, but took on a look as if the proceedings were indifferent to him.

”If you say you don't know”--said the man, hesitating in face of the boy's resolution. ”Don't you know where they are?”

”Yes, I know; but I ain't goin' to tell you,” said Frank, bursting into tears.

”The little Johnny's game,” said the soldier who had told him the others were not going to hurt w.i.l.l.y. The corporal said something to this man in an undertone, to which he replied:

”You can try, but it isn't going to do any good. I don't half like it, anyway.”

Frank had stopped crying after his first outburst.

”If you don't tell, we are going to shoot you,” said the little soldier, drawing his pistol.

The boy shut his mouth close, and looked straight at the corporal. The man laid down his pistol, and, seizing Frank, drew his hands behind him, and tied them.

”Get ready, men,” he said, as he drew the boy aside to a small tree, putting him with his back to it.

Frank thought his hour had come. He thought of his mother and w.i.l.l.y, and wondered if the soldiers would shoot w.i.l.l.y, too. His face twitched and grew ghastly white. Then he thought of his father, and of how proud he would be of his son's bravery when he should hear of it. This gave him strength.

”The knot--hurts my hands,” he said.

The man leaned over and eased it a little.

”I wasn't crying because I was scared,” said Frank.

The kind looking fellow turned away.

”Now, boys, get ready,” said the corporal, taking up his pistol.

How large it looked to Frank. He wondered where the bullets would hit him, and if the wounds would bleed, and whether he would be left alone all night out there in the woods, and if his mother would come and kiss him.

”I want to say my prayers,” he said, faintly.

The soldier made some reply which he could not hear, and the man with the beard started forward; but just then all grew dark before his eyes.

Next, he thought he must have been shot, for he felt wet about his face, and was lying down. He heard some one say, ”He's coming to,” and another replied, ”Thank G.o.d!”

He opened his eyes. He was lying beside the little branch with his head in the lap of the big soldier with the beard, and the little corporal was leaning over him throwing water in his face from a cap.

The others were standing around.

”What's the matter?” asked Frank.

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