Still Hal stood with his eyes fastened on the flag.
“If the senor is a good friend of Spain,” continued the fellow, with mocking insinuation, “he will shout, ‘viva Espana!’”
Long live Spain? Hal Maynard would have died a dozen deaths sooner than utter such a detestable wish!
Those black, gleaming eyes were fastened on him pitilessly, until—until the tormentor found himself ignored.
Then he swiftly turned to his fellow Spaniards.
“Here is an American!” he cried.
A laughing chorus greeted the announcement.
“He wanted to go home!”
More laughter greeted this stupid sally.
“And now,” continued the announcer, “he is crying to find himself left here with us!”