But that the trial was a mere form was evident from the hurried
way in which it was carried on. One by one, the prisoners, of whom
there seemed to be about a dozen, passed before the table, were
asked a few questions, and then dismissed to take their stand on
the other side. It was pitiful to note that one or two of the
prisoners were mere boys, while others were men well advanced in
years. One, who wore a velvet cap, seemed to be a person of
consequence, possibly an official of the town.
Not more than fifteen minutes had passed before all had gone
through this mockery of a trial. It was evident that their fate
was predetermined, for none was freed. All took their places
between the guards and awaited the next move of the men who held
in their hands the power of life and death.
During all this time the eyes of the Army Boys had been glued on
the one figure of their comrade. They had noted that of all the
prisoners he alone had his hands tied behind him. It filled them
with pride to see the undaunted way in which he had faced his
captors and the evident scorn with which he had heard his fate.
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