“Well,” said Captain Murray, “what do you think of it?”
“Why,” replied Hal, “it’s not true; not any of it.”
“Probably not,” replied the captain, “but you’ll have to meet it all the same. I’ve got to forward the complaint to headquarters. I’ve no discretion in the matter.”
“I suppose that’s true.”
Hal was still staring almost stupidly at his commander. The sweeping nature of the charges, their bluntness and brutality, had given him a shock from which he did not at once recover. For years he had been inviting just such a calamity as this, but now that it had come, in this direct and drastic form, the suddenness of it had quite taken away his breath.
Captain Murray handed Hal’s resignation back to him.
“You won’t want to file this now,” he said.
“No,” replied Hal, taking it, “I guess not. I think—I think I’ll deny those charges.”
“Of course you will. And let me tell you, you’ve got a very pretty fight on your hands. It’ll be no boy’s play. The Barriscales are determined. You know you’ve got yourself into this predicament by flirting with economic vagaries, and associating with radical charlatans. I’m willing to do what I can to help you out provided you’ll put up a vigorous defense on your own account. I want to keep you in the Guard.”
“Thank you, Captain! What would you suggest?”