"Good-evening, Mr. Irvine," said Burrows easily, as the Corporal dismounted, handing his rein to La Mancha. "You'll find your commanding officer inside the house, playing with my niece a game called animal grab."
The Tenderfoot was staring hard at La Mancha as he led the horses away.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Burrows,"—the Corporal produced two blue documents from his breast-pocket,—"the game I have come to play here is called human grab. You, Mr. Burrows, and you, Mr. Ramsay, are my prisoners."
"What?"
Dandy Irvine presented the warrants, but the violent expostulations of the prisoners brought the Curate and the Colonel hurriedly to the door.
"What's all this?" said the Colonel. "Why, Corporal Irvine, surely you've made some mistake?"
Dandy saluted. "Will you look at the warrants, sir?"
The Colonel took one, glanced at it by the lamplight within, and handed it back to Corporal Irvine. "This is very serious, Mr. Burrows,—a charge of arson cannot be lightly passed over, and Corporal Irvine has only carried out his orders."
The prisoners were loudly protesting their innocence, Mr. Burrows declaiming on points of law and usage; Mr. Ramsay almost in tears; but the Colonel required their silence.
"Are you alone, Irvine?"