Clarkson motioned the doctor also to sit down.

“Must I tell him?” he said in a low voice.

“You had better.  He is a magistrate, you know.”

“Yes; all right.  Tell him what it is about; will you?”

“Clarkson wants to tell you the exact truth about the murder which took place here in autumn,” the Doctor said.  “There is not much time to lose.”

“That’s it.”  And Clarkson began at once.  “To begin with, it was not the Indian at all.  He never saw Doctor Morton that I know of, and I am certain he never saw him alive that day.  He happened to be lying asleep under the bushes, that’s all he had to do with it.”

“But who did it then?” Mr. Bayne asked.

“Who should do it?  He wanted to turn me out of my farm that I had cleared myself; one day he pretty nearly knocked me down, and every day he abused me as if I was a dog. I killed him.”

He stopped.  All the exultation of his triumph was not quite conquered yet.  He had killed his enemy.

“That day,” he went on, “I was going down to the mill; I had a big stick in my hand that I had but just cut, and I thought what a good one it would be to knock a man down with.  I was going along, in and out among the bushes, when I caught sight of him coming riding slowly in front.  I knew he was most likely going to the creek, for it seemed as if he could not keep from meddling with me continually, and I did not want to talk to him, so I slipped into a big bush to wait till he was gone by.  I declare I had no thought of harming him, but he always put me in a rage, so I did not mean to speak to him at all.  Well, he came close up, and all of a sudden I thought I should like to pay him out for hitting me with his whip, and I just lifted up my stick and knocked him over.  It was a sharper blow than I meant it to be, for the blood ran down as he fell.  He lay on the grass, and I was going to walk back home when I saw that my stick was all over blood, and there was some on my hands too.  That made me mad with him, because I thought I might be found out by it.  I went a little way further to hide the stick, and I saw a man lying down.  Then I thought he might have seen me and I should have to quiet him too, but he was fast asleep, and did not move a finger; that made me think of putting it on him.  He had a big knife stuck in his belt, but it had half fallen out, and I took it that I might put some of the blood on it.  When I came back with it to the place, I found that Doctor Morton had moved.  I had not meant at first to kill him, but when I saw that he was alive I was vexed, and thought if I left him so he would be sure to know who had hit him, so I finished him.  I wanted to make people believe that it was the Indian who had done it, and they did.  That is all I’ve got to tell.”