“Then who has?”
“How can I tell?” said Boy, with airy indifference.
“Boy!”
“Yes, sir?”
“Look at me straight!”
Boy obeyed. The clear eyes met the Major’s stare without flinching.
“You swear on your honour—now, sir, remember! I am a soldier, and ‘on your honour’ is a very serious thing to say—swear on your honour that you never touched that gun!”
Boy hesitated—just a second’s pause. And suddenly a high piping voice called out,—
“Own up, Boy! Own up! Don’t be caddish!”
Boy flushed crimson to the roots of his fair curls, and cast down his eyes. He had no occasion to speak. The Major’s face grew grave and stern.