“That is no the trut’,” came the angry contradiction. Ignace glared righteous indignation at his traducer. “Never I——”
“Silence!” thundered the K. O. “Don’t you dare speak until you’re told to talk!”
“’Scuse,” muttered Ignace, too utterly abashed by the rebuke to be soldier-like.
“You state,” the Major resumed his inquiry, “that this man here attacked you last night in the dark without cause?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Humph! Have you ever before had any trouble with him?”
“Once before, sir.” A baleful gleam of triumph shot into the man’s pale eyes.
“When and where? Tell me about it.”
“One day quite a while ago he was talking loud in barracks when I was trying to rest. I asked him to stop it, and he wouldn’t pay any attention. Then I asked him again to stop making so much noise, and he jumped on me just the same as he did last night. He got me down and would have half-killed me if one of the fellows he runs with hadn’t come in and pulled him off. As soon as I knew last night who was fighting me I wasn’t surprised any more. I knew he’d been laying for me and so——”
“That will do.” The major cut him off sharply.