“Something I can do for you?” Buffalo Bill asked, in a tone so kind that it touched Wilkins’ heart.
“I have come to make a confession!” he blurted out.
“I can guess that you have been fighting,” said the scout.
“No, I have not; but I was struck down, brutally knocked down, by a man who thinks he has me for his life slave simply because he knows certain things against me.”
His face was flaming again, and his manner was excited.
“Yes, I see!” said the scout, trying to help him along.
“That man is Joel Barlow, now in command here in the absence of the commandant.”
“Not Lieutenant Barlow?”
“Yes, Lieutenant Barlow. And I’m going to tell you about it. I know I shall be disgraced and court-martialed, and perhaps sent to prison; but that doesn’t matter now. I’m going to tell it, if I’m hung for it.”
“I shall be pleased to hear what you have to say.”