"It looks like a shambles!" Fred answered, glancing to right and left and indicating the victims of the whip writhing in the name of German justice.
"Shut up, you fool!" counseled Will in a stage whisper, but either Fred did not hear him, or was too worked up to care.
"Silence! Sit down!"
"I warn you!" Fred answered. "That boy has claimed British protection.
I shall see he has it!"
Then he sat down. The lieutenant glared at Kazimoto, the glare changing to a cold grin as he realized how fully we were all at his mercy for the moment.
"You are sentenced," he said, "to two hundred lashes for making impudent answers to the court, and to six months on the chain-gang for deserting from this country and entering foreign service. Further evidence against you will be assembled in the meanwhile, and other charges against you will be tried on completion of the chain-gang sentence!"
"I protest!" shouted Fred, jumping up again. "I give notice of appeal to whatever higher court there is. I am ready to give bonds!"
"What does this delay mean?" snapped the lieutenant. "Put him down at once and lay the lashes on!"
The unfortunate Kazimoto was pounced on by two askaris and thrown face-downward on the floor. One of them tore off his clothes, ripping up his good English jacket.
"Did you hear my protest?" shouted Fred. "Did you hear my notice of appeal?"