uited 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. 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.

"Who are you?" he asked briefly. "A spy, eh?"

"A spy! Me a spy?" exclaimed the man. "Great Caesar's ghost, no;
I'm no spy."

"Who are you, then?" demanded Hal.

The stranger drew himself up to his full height--and he was still almost
as broad as he was long, folded his arms and said proudly:

"I am Anthony Stubbs, sir, war correspondent of the _New York Gazette_,
sir; and I am here in search of news."

"News, eh?" said Hal. "It is my belief that you are in search of
information to turn over to the Germans."

"You are mistaken, sir," replied Anthony, somewhat uncomfortably, the
lads could see. "I assure you on the honor of a Stubbs that I am what I
represent myself to he."

Hal could keep a straight face no longer. So comical was the little man
in his ruffled dignity that