They secured him firmly.
“Now,” ordered Billy, “you run to the house and get that old French flag you and I have been using as a mark for firing at for some time, and get a Jap flag, too.”
Taro was gone but a moment, and then returned with the desired flags. These Billy took and held before the French boy.
“Now, you,” said he, “if you don’t want to stay tied up here all night, you just do what we tell you. Kiss that sun flag—right in the centre. That’s the thing! What!—Ah, you will, you divil,” for the French boy put his lips against the flag but a second, and then withdrew them to spit at it.
Taro had turned livid. In a flash he had seized the flag and was ramming it fiercely into the mouth of the French boy. Billy fought Taro back.
“Here, Taro! That’s not fair! He’s tied!”
He drew forth the flag. The dye ran down in livid streams on Alphonse’s chin. He fought vainly to free his arms.
“Now, you,” said Billy, “we’ll let you free if you’ll fight either one of us alone. But if you won’t, you’d better do what we tell you. If you don’t—”
Taro had quietly stripped himself to the waist prepared for battle. He was younger by several years than the French boy, but the latter had already felt the taste of the little Japanese’s strength. When he encountered that bloody purpose in the eye of Taro he trembled visibly.
“I will do what you ask,” he decided, suddenly.