In a moment Van produced his notebook and pencil from his pocket.
The next fifteen minutes was spent in writing the man's words, and then, with a trembling hand, the wretch signed it, Poppet being a witness.
The confession implicated the lawyer who had charge of all the affairs of Van's murdered uncle, and the boy vowed inwardly that he should suffer for the part he had played in the crime if he ever got back to his home.
"There, now!" exclaimed Doc Clancy, when he had signed the paper and handed it to Van, "I suppose you will get me out of here now, and let me go about my business."
"He has nothing to say about a matter of that kind," said Poppet, coldly. "You have a serious charge against you for insulting the daughter of one of our prominent citizens and you must suffer the penalty of your rash act. Also, it is the law of the African Utopia that a man who is proven a murderer—whether the crime was committed here or in any other part of the world—must die. Your confession proves that you are a vile murderer, and therefore, you must die!"
"What!" screamed Doc Clancy, in a frantic voice. "Van, you will not allow this, will you?"
"Come away!" exclaimed Poppet, taking our hero by the arm. "Bandy no more words with the scoundrel."
As they turned away from the cell, Doc Clancy uttered a yell of terror and fell to the floor in a fit.