“Did you raise the color?”
“No. The water prevented me from going to bed-rock.”
While this conversation was in progress, the party had built a fire and commenced cooking supper. Removing from beside the bed two double-barrelled shotguns, a yager, and another rifle, they invited Marshland to get up and take supper with them. During the meal all engaged in merry conversation. After it was over, the leader informed Marshland that he was arrested for the robbery of Moody’s train.
“You received,” said he, “while engaged in that robbery, a bullet wound in the breast, by which we shall be able to identify you.”
“I received no such wound,” said he; and, striking his breast several times, he continued, “My breast is as sound as a dollar.”
“You can have no objection, then, to submitting to our examination.”
“None in the least, gentlemen. Look for yourselves.”
The leader threw open Marshland’s shirt. The mark of the recent wound confirmed the guilt of the robber. He could give no explanation of the manner in which he received it.
“The evidence is satisfactory to us,” said the leader. “We have made no mistake in arresting you. You must die.”
“For God’s sake, do not hang me. Let me go, and I will trouble you no more.”