That's better than going to jail, isn't it, and making us bow our
heads in grief?"
Cahill, in his turn, approached the desk and, seating himself before
it, began writing rapidly.
"What is it?" asked Ranson.
"A confession," said Cahill, his pen scratching.
"I won't take it," Ranson said, "and I won't use it."
"I ain't going to give it to you," said Cahill, over his shoulder. "I
know better than that. But I don't go to Paris unless I leave a
confession behind me. Call in the guard," he commanded; "I want two
witnesses."
"I'll see you hanged first," said Ranson.
Cahill crossed the room to the door and, throwing it open, called,
"Corporal of the guard!"
As he spoke, Captain Carr and Mrs. Bolland, accompanied by Miss Post
and her aunt, were crossing the parade-ground. For a moment the post-
trader surveyed them doubtfully, and then, stepping out upon the
veranda, beckoned to them.
"Here's a paper I've signed, captain," he said; "I wish you'd witness
my signature. It's my testimony for the court-martial."
"Then someone else had better sign it," said Carr. "Might look
prejudiced if I did." He turned to the ladies.
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