Presently a table was brought out by some men and placed on the
ground a little way away from the bottom of the steps. Following
this came three men who seemed to be in authority, and behind them
a number of prisoners, guarded by men with rifles.
It had grown lighter now, and a thrill went through the Army Boys
crouching in their covert as they saw that one of the prisoners
wore the American uniform. He was facing the men who sat at the
table, evidently his judges, and his back was toward the eyes that
were watching him so eagerly from the wood, but they knew in an
instant who it was.
It was Tom, dear old Tom, his form as erect, his bearing as
defiant as they had always known it! They knew that figure too
well to be mistaken. There was a constriction in their throats and
their hands gripped their rifles until it seemed as if their
fingers would bury themselves in the stocks.
They were at too great a distance to hear what was said, but it
was apparent that a trial of some kind was in progress. It might
have been that some of them had scruples about executing the
prisoners out of hand, and the form was observed in order to get
their assent to the bloody work that the majority had determined
on.
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