“Yes, sahib,” put in Ram Singh, “it is a true thing; for these brothers of mine went with me and saw me get the medicine, and they know I tell the truth.” “We will hear them,” said Mr. Percy. “What do you know about it?” They were all standing in a row in front of us, directly facing the Tahsildar, with the palms of their hands together, as is the custom. Said the elder of them, “Ram Singh came to us just as light appeared this morning, and showed us a ten-rupee note, saying that he was going to the Tahsildar sahib, at Sahib Gunge, to buy some medicine, and wanted us to go with him, as he said he was afraid of being robbed, or that the Tahsildar sahib might arrest him for having so much money; so we went with him and saw him give the note, and get the bottle of medicine and eight rupees from the Tahsildar sahib. That is all I know about it.” “Another lie! they are all of a kind, and have made up this story together, to destroy my honor,” put in the Tahsildar. “Now, Ram Singh,” said Mr. Percy, “I want to know about this; where did you get that ten-rupee note?” And Ram Singh, greatly surprised, not seeing the line of investigation, exclaimed, “Barra Sahib! Did I not come to you yesterday for some medicine, and from your honor’s kind heart did you not give me a ten-rupee note?” “Is this it?” inquired Mr. Percy, showing him the note. “The very one,” he exclaimed, “for there is the dog’s head. This morning when we were on the road, where no one could see us, I took the note out of my kamarbund and showed it to my two brothers, and I told them that I saw the Chota Sahib make that dog’s head while I stood at the Barra Sahib’s table.” “Charles,” asked Mr. Percy, “Chota Sahib, are you in this conspiracy too? Let us hear from you; the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth!” as sternly as if I was a culprit, yet with a twinkle in his eye that I well understood. “Did you ever see this note before?” he asked. “Yes,” I replied, “I saw it in this room yesterday. Ram Singh was here, and Cockear was sitting in front while I made the sketch. I cannot tell a lie, sir. That is my mark. I did it with my little—pen.” I was about to say hatchet, as I had just read the story of George Washington. I also added, “These Greek words are yours, and there are your initials.” “Yes,” said Mr. Percy, “you are correct. The only witness yet remaining is the dog, so we will call him,” and at a whistle, there he was before us, all alive, trembling with eagerness, with that ear of his cocked up, as if waiting to hear us say, “Rats!” In the whole of this investigation Cockear came as the climax, and his action showed that he was conscious of his importance in the affair. The whole scene was so ludicrous that we, Mr. Percy and all, even Cockear in his way, burst out laughing, except the discomfited Tahsildar, who responded with more of a savage grin than anything else.