"The ice-water's over'n th' corner, same as always," he says, peekin' in through th' bars. "You sure ain't forgotten this quick?"
"What did we do?" I asts him, sizzlin' down about a quart in one gulp.
"What didn't ye do? Pers'nally ye did up three of us while we was puttin' you in th' cooler here. Ye came home singin' in a carrermatter 'bout 3 A.M., an' Terry wanted to bring th' cochero in an' kneel him in front of th' flagpole an' cut his head off. You was tryin' to borry a bay'net f'r th' ceremony. But I guess you'll get to rememberin' most all you did, and some more, before th' Old Man gets through with you. He's had a squad of cops and an orderly fr'm headquarters to call on him a'ready this mornin'. Fr'm what they said, I should judge you tried to bust up the little old Civil Gov'ment and clean up the L.B.B. Don't be bashful about th' water," he says. "It's all f'r you."
While I was sloshin' ice-water over my head, Terry woke up. We sat on the edges of our bunks and talked it all over. We didn't feel real affectionate. We was still talkin', sort of aimless but effective, when the guard came an' took us out to the orderly-room and lined us up in front of th' Old Man.
"H'm," he says, swingin' back in his chair. "Do ye desire to call any witnesses to prove ye didn't do it?"
"No, sir," we both says quick. We'd known him f'r some time.
"H'm. That's lucky f'r you," he says. "I don't mind havin' men try to run my guard at three in th' mornin'," he says, talkin' to the ceilin' like an old friend, "nor tryin' to murder a coachman on my p'rade-ground, nor blackin' th' eye of th' sergeant of th' guard. H'm. Ye've got to ex-pect them little things fr'm real soldiers, of course," he says. "H'm. But when I have to drive away six policemen before breakfast who've came to arrest two of my men f'r assaultin' several hundred natives all to onct, I've got to draw th' line. There's eddy-toryals about them men in all th' native papers this mornin', or so I am informed accordin' to th' best of my ability, and in th' Cable-News. A brutal attack on peaceable, well-disposed Fillypeeners, and on hundreds of th'm at that, is an assault to the foundations of government which I can't overlook. H'm."
"She spit on th' flag, sir," says Terry.
"Th' Colonel wanted them men for a G.C.M. this mornin'," says the Old Man, "to say nothin' of what th' civil authorities want th'm for, and that's a whole lot. But there ain't been a gen'ral pris'ner out of this comp'ny for five year now, and I persuaded the Commandin' Officer that I could attend to th' case. H'm. What do you think about that, Casey?"
"Yessir," I says.