"I might do so," Fremont replied, provokingly, "but for one thing."
"And what is that?" was asked eagerly.
"I want to see the guilty man punished!"
"If you confess," the other went on, angrily, "you'll get a light sentence if Cameron lives, and a life sentence instead of the electric chair if he dies. There is always hope in a life sentence—and you are young!"
"Why do you ask me to confess?" demanded Fremont.
"Well, to tell you the truth," was the reply, "I have a friend who may be accused of the crime. He can't be convicted, of course, for the proof goes to show you to be the guilty one, but the cops can make him a lot of trouble and expense!"
"So you want me to confess and skip the country?"
"Yes, to skip out of the country, just as you skipped out of New York."
"And permit this friend of yours, who committed the crime, to go free?"
"My friend did not commit the crime!" threateningly.