“But I didn’t shoot him, sir. I didn’t even know he’d been shot until I read the paper next day.”
“He was shot with an army Colt—the kind you fellows carried in the war,” said Markham, keeping his eyes on the man.
“I know it,” Leacock replied. “The papers said so.”
“You have such a gun, haven’t you, Captain?”
Again the other hesitated.
“No, sir.” His voice was barely audible.
“What became of it?”
The man glanced at Markham, and then quickly shifted his eyes.
“I—I lost it . . . in France.”
Markham smiled faintly.