“Tell me what you saw last night,” commanded the K. O.
“I was awake and saw Bixton leave his cot last night, sir. He crossed the room and stopped, as well as I could see in the dim light, in front of the vacant cots that belong to the men that were away. I saw him reach out his hand. Then I heard him yell and knew someone had caught hold of him. I knew it must be Pulinski who had grabbed him, because he must have thought just as I did that Bixton was up to something crooked.”
“Never mind what you thought,” frowned the major. “Is that all you saw? You are holding nothing back?”
“That is all I saw, sir. I have told you everything I knew about last night, sir, except that I saw the fight and all that happened afterward when the sergeant came.”
“What do you know concerning the trouble between these two men previous to this disgraceful affair?” The K. O. had caught the slight stress laid on Schnitzel’s words, “last night.” “Were you in the squad room when the first brawl between them took place?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Give me an impartial account of it.”
Schnitzel complied with a terse recital of the occurrence, which in every detail corroborated the statements which Ignace had made.
“Are you ready to take solemn oath, if necessary, that what you have just stated is absolutely true in every respect?”