Wrap! wrap! He felt the cord passing swiftly around his wrists, and then an extra turn was taken around his ankles.
"Your name's Overton, isn't it?" asked the leader with a wicked grin on his face.
"Yes."
"Then you're the man we want."
"From the way you acted I judged that you wanted me," mocked Hal dryly.
"Yes; but we wanted you for more than general reasons. In fact, we want you, most of all, for purely personal reasons. Or, at least, one of our fellows does. Here he comes."
An eighth man of the wretched crew now came swiftly forward from the hiding that he had kept from the first.
As he came he chuckled maliciously, and Hal Overton knew that sinister laugh.
Then the fellow halted, bending over the prostrate, tied young sergeant.
The face was the face of that evil deserter from the Army—ex-Private Hinkey!