The countenance of the grizzled warrior offered a rare study in conflicting emotions. It betrayed anger, but it also suggested chagrin. Moreover, there was a hint of admiration. There was an instant in which Sam believed that the Major was about to attempt personal chastisement on the spot; there was another in which he wondered if the old man were not struggling with a sense of helplessness. Then, of a sudden, the Major laughed explosively. “Ha, ha! By the great horn spoon, Parker! I’d do the same, if I stood in your shoes! Blood’s thicker than water, every time. Ought to be, by Jove! when it’s good blood. And it’s good blood that’s made your boy own his mistake and step forward, like a man, to bear the consequences. I hate a sneak, but I take off my hat to a real man, no matter whether he’s young or old. There, there! Hear me out! This thing came near enough to being my funeral to justify me in attending to the arrangements. I’ll telephone to the police, and withdraw my charge against Groche; and I’ll keep my own counsel about why I withdraw it. That’s all right--accidents will happen, and when you’re satisfied a thing is an accident, there’s nothing to do but grin and bear it. Our young friend here can learn a lesson, and be more careful in future. No need for him to gossip about it, eh?” Sam was speechless at this amazing turn for the better in his affairs; but his father came to the rescue. “Major, you’re most kindly and generous. If there’s anything I can do, command me! If Groche threatens proceedings for illegal arrest you must permit me to guarantee you against loss in any way.” The Major shook his head. “Very good of you, sir, but unnecessary--quite. Groche’s language was so abusive that a charge of noise and brawl would lie against him; and, no doubt, the officers will hold him overnight for safe-keeping, and turn him loose in the morning. And he’ll be content to drop the case, so far as the law goes; for he has no love for courts of any sort. But, young man”--he turned to Sam, and there was a wry grin curling his fierce moustache--“young man, you’ve robbed me of the consolation of being a public benefactor. If I could put that scoundrel behind the bars, at cost of a flesh wound or two, I’d count the pain as nothing compared with the service to the community.” Sam found tongue. “I wish I could tell you, sir, how sorry I am for--for shooting you.” Once more the Major laughed, and his hand fell, in friendly fashion, on Sam’s shoulder. “Boy, I’ve been wounded four times,” he said, “but this is the first time the fellow who hit me has had the grace to apologize.” CHAPTER VII THE RECKONING Sam awoke to find the sunshine pouring through the window of his room. Overnight there had been a change for the better in the weather, and Sunday had dawned clear and bright.