"Yeserday my three Brothar get the pass," pursued Ignace doggedly. "Then I all 'lone. Bob say, 'you stay wake we come back.' I say, 'So will I.' Taps him come, I ver' sleepy, but no go sleep. So wait I an' watch. After while think now is mid the night. My Brothar no yet come. I look to the stair, then, know I no why, look round. I see this man--so." Ignace leaned forward to illustrate. "He have the hand reach out the rack Jimmy, my ver' bes' Brothar. I think he go steal something. Once we write the lettar. Leave on the shelf Jimmy. In morning no lettar. So las' night think him mebbe t'ief. I think catch, keep till sergeant come. Then him yell an' hit me the nose. So am I the mad. Hit, too; ver' strong poonch. So is it the fight," ended Ignace placidly, using the precise words in which he had recounted the fray to his bunkies. "That's a big lie from beginning to end! He's trying to save his own face." This time it was Bixton who forgot himself. His face aflame, he turned menacingly upon his accuser. "You dirty, foreign trash----" "Hold your tongue! Such language is unbecoming enough in itself, let alone in the presence of your commanding officer." The probing eyes of the commandant grew steely, his jaws came together with a snap on the last word. "The stories of you two men don't agree in the least, except on one point," he continued harshly. "You are both guilty of brawling and thus disgracing the Service. Sergeant----" Still standing at rigid attention, the non-com. tried to look even more attentive. "Bring the man you say knows something of this affair from the other room." Smartly saluting, the sergeant wheeled and stepped to the door of an inner room. Flinging it open he disappeared, to return almost instantly with a soldier, whose dark, rugged face was set in purposeful lines. "This is the man, sir," reported the sergeant. Momentary consternation showed itself in Bixton's face as he viewed the unexpected witness; then a sneer played about his lips. Ignace, however, stared at the newcomer in blank, absolute wonder. The sergeant's report, read out by the K. O., had contained nothing about this third party, who, nevertheless, it seemed, had something to say about last night's disturbance. Now the Pole listened with strained attention as Private Schnitzel, the man whose acquaintance he had made only yesterday, made prompt replies to the major's preliminary questions. "Tell me what you saw last night," commanded the K. O. "I was awake and saw Bixton leave his cot last night, sir. He crossed the room and stopped, as well as I could see in the dim light, in front of the vacant cots that belong to the men that were away. I saw him reach out his hand. Then I heard him yell and knew someone had caught hold of him. I knew it must be Pulinski who had grabbed him, because he must have thought just as I did that Bixton was up to something crooked."