CHAPTER XII
AN UNEXPECTED FRIEND AT COURT
During the remainder of the night none of the four Khaki Boys slept much. The very nature of Ignace’s fragmentary information was calculated to keep his bunkies awake for a while. Ignace himself tossed restlessly about on his cot. Though his conscience did not trouble him, his nose pained him.
Dropping into fitful slumber just as dawn was graying in the east, he was cautiously awakened a little before first call by Roger, who was always first of the four to open his eyes in the morning.
“Sorry to do it, old man,” apologized Roger in a whisper, “but we mayn’t have another chance to talk. Get dressed as quietly as you can. I’m going to wake up Jimmy and Bob.”
Bob and Jimmy next interviewed, the quartette dressed with noiseless speed. Directly after first call they gathered about Ignace, who in an undertone regaled them with an account of the fight.
“Now listen to me, Iggy,” counseled Bob in low, guarded tones. “When you get on the carpet before the K. O. you tell him just what you told us and stick to it. Don’t you let Bixton put it over you. Naturally he’ll try it. It’ll be your word against his.”
“Too bad somebody else didn’t see him at his dirty work,” muttered Jimmy. “Wish we hadn’t gone off to Tremont. Then this wouldn’t have happened.”
“What you should have done, Ignace, was just to hold onto him and raise an alarm.” Roger’s face indicated troubled sympathy.