I knocked him down with that chair there.... then in my rage I emptied my pistol into the hearts of the whole gang.... that’s all there’s to it.’...  ‘He’s lying!’ ‘Traitor!’ ‘Betrayer!’ ‘Down with the thief!’ flew back and forth from one to another above our heads....  Then in a more subdued voice we heard ‘Hist! Silence!  Some one is coming!’ A moment later I heard distinctly the unmistakable growl of my hero of Gallipoli overhead demanding, ’WHAT HAVE YOU CUTTHROATS DONE WITH OUR PRISONERS?’ ...  There was a silence that could be felt....  None offered an explanation that I could hear....  ‘Why don’t you answer?’ thundered Gallipoli....  There was an unmistakable murmur....  ’Don’t YOU try to slide out of this, you COWARD!  I’ll hold every one of you responsible for this! Where’s my lieutenant?’...  He means ME....

“‘Out in the yard,’ I heard one of them reply....  ’Go and tell him to report here AT ONCE!’...  Poor devil! the humor of this whole situation is displayed in the tragic possibilities of criminal greed when crooks fall out!... ‘Where are the others?’ my Gallipoli hero demanded....  I heard no answer....  ’DO YOU HEAR ME?’... still no audible answer.... ’Crack!’.... the report of a revolver, then a scuffling and ’stand back! Another move and I’ll blow you ALL to HELL,—­line up there!....  Now I order you to explain the whereabouts of the PRISONERS.’

“...  We could hear a voice boasting:  ’Did you see that BLOOD in yonder?  Well, that is our answer.  We were suspicious of that Lieutenant of yours so we took the matter into our own hands.’...  ’WHO DID THE KILLING?’...  ’The Sergeant.’...  ’And what did he DO with the bodies?’...  ’Threw them into the well!’...  ’The devil! you’ll have to fish them out again!’...  Then there was a long silence....  Finally we heard:  ‘Here, Sergeant!’ from HE of Gallipoli; ’when will my lieutenant report?’...  ’The Captain said to present his compliments and say that he is temporarily detained.’...  My ‘prisoner’ poked me in the ribs impulsively and smiled....  ’Where are the BODIES?’...  ‘Burned!’ said the Sergeant.  ’WHAT?’...  ’BURNED UP?...  ’Who burned them?’...  ’I did, Sir.’...  ’Didn’t throw them in the well?’...  ’No, Sir.’...  ’Well, I’ll be damned!...  FALL IN! Unless those prisoners are produced I’ll court-martial every one of you!’

“...  We could hear the measured tread of a squad overhead tramping away until the thump, thump, thumping sank into a faint indistinct vibration which was caught up by the beating of our hearts and the throbbing of our fascinated and incredulous ears....  ‘Well!’ ejaculated my amused ‘prisoner’; ’It’ll be exceedingly interesting to read the future accounts of my double execution.  I am sure my family will read it with greater interest than they’ve ever manifested in any of London’s or Gorky’s fanciful novels!’...  ’I assume that you will not be surprised to learn that you have some mighty good friends in that crowd outside,’ I ventured....  ‘Oh, not at all,’ my prisoner returned, ’and I venture to say that your friend from Gallipoli will find it convenient to contribute to the general misunderstanding and confusion by allowing the suspected executioners to air their conflicting explanations of my disappearance.’