“Wait for me out here, Mr. Crow,” said he when they reached the office.  “You are overcome.  I’ll talk to him.”  He returned at once to the injured man’s cot.

“Look here, Briggs, I’ll do what I can for you, but I’m afraid it won’t help much.  What do the doctors say?”

“If they ain’t lyin’, I’ll be up an’ about in a few weeks.  Shoulder and some ribs cracked and my legs stove up.  I can’t move.  God, that was an awful tumble!” He shuddered in memory of the auto’s leap.

“Is Sam or Davy in this gang?”

“No; Davy’s at Blackwell’s Island, an’ Sam told me he was goin’ to Canada fer his health.  Jim Courtney is the leader of this gang.  He sailed under the name of Gregory.  That’s him swearin’ at the rubes.”

“The thing for you to do is to make a clean breast of it, Briggs.  It will go easier with you.”

“Turn State’s evidence?  What good will that do when we was all caught with the goods?”

“If you will tell us all of the inside facts concerning the abduction I’ll guarantee that something can be done to lighten your sentence.  I am Congressman Bonner’s nephew.”

“So?  I thought you was the swellest hold-up man I ever met, that night out in the woods.  You’d do credit to Sam Welch himself.  I’ll tell you all I know, pardner, but it ain’t a great deal.  It won’t do me any good to keep my mouth shut now, an’, if you say so, it may help me to squeal.  But, fer the Lord’s sake, have one of these rotten doctors give me something to make me sleep.  Don’t they know what morphine is for?”

Growling and cursing at the doctors, Bill was moved into the office.  Anderson came in from the dining-room at that juncture, visibly excited.

“I’ve got a confession from Gregory,” he said.  “He confesses that he oughter be hung.”

“What!”

“That’s what he said—­’y ginger.  Here’s his very words, plain as day:  ’I oughter be hung half a dozen times.’  ‘What fer?’ says I.  ‘Fer bein’ sech a damned ass,’ said he.  ‘But that ain’t a hangable offence,’ said I. You know, I kinder like Gregory, spite of all.  ’It’s the worst crime in the world,’ said he.  ‘Then you confess you’ve committed it?’ said I, anxious to pin him right down to it, y’ see.’ ’ou bet I do.  Ef they hang me it’ll be because I’m a drivelling idiot, an’ not because I’ve shot one er two in my time.  Nobody but an ass could be caught at it, an’ that’s why I feel so infernal guilty.  Look here, Mr. Crow, ever’ time you see a feller that’s proved himself a downright ass, jest take him out an’ lynch him.  He deserves it, that’s all I’ve got to say.  The greatest crime in the world is criminal neglect.’  Don’t bother me now, Wick; I’m going to write that down an’ have him sign it.”