The Littlest Rebel Part 26

The General ceased and turned to his littered table; but Harris was not yet beaten.

"No, General," he answered bravely, "but there happens to be a flaw ...

in your machine's control." The General looked up, frowning sharply; but Harris still went on: "In a military court we have condemned a man to die--_and the facts have not been proved!_"

Amazed more at the young officer's obstinate temerity than his words the General stared at him.

"How so?" he asked, with irony.

Harris opened out his hands with a simple gesture that seemed to leave his logic to the judgment of any impartial observer.

"In times of peace, my profession is that of the Law. I know my ground--and," in rising tones of sincerity, "I challenge you to shake it in any civil court in Christendom."

"Strong words, young man," came the stern reply. "For your sake, I hope they are warranted. What is your point? Get at it!"

Harris drew a short breath of relief. He had cleverly switched the appeal from grounds on which he stood no chance whatever to those where he did not fear any intellect in a fair fight.

"The evidence," he said calmly, "was purely circ.u.mstantial. In the first place, it is alleged that my client captured a Rebel spy, one Herbert Cary, who was hiding in the loft of a cabin."

The General's caustic tones interrupted. "To which fact," he said, "there were only _ten_ witnesses."

"Yes, General," was the faintly smiling agreement. "Ten! But not one of them actually _saw_ the man! They _believe_ he was there, but they cannot swear to it."

Grant made a motion as of putting away something of no consequence.

"Immaterial--in view of the other facts. Well--what else?"

"Next, it is claimed that Morrison released this spy and allowed him to enter the Union lines--without regard to consequences."

The General gave a short exclamation of impatience, and struck the papers on his desk with the flat of his hand.

"And that is _proved_," he said, sharply. "Proved by several officers who stopped your spy at points along the road."

He singled out a soiled piece of paper from the sheaf before him and held it up, a piece of paper which bore writing on both sides.

"When taken, _this pa.s.s_ was found on his person. Not circ.u.mstantial evidence, but _fact_. Signed on one side by R.E. Lee and, on the other, by Colonel Morrison." He laughed shortly over the futility of argument under such circ.u.mstances. "Do you presume to contest this, _too_?"

To his amazement the young officer facing him bowed easily and smiled in turn.

"I _do_. Emphatically. _No pa.s.s_ was given Herbert Cary either by Colonel Morrison _or_ General Lee."

"_What?_" cried the General angrily.

Harris only pointed.

"Read it, sir--if you please." He watched till Grant's eyes started to scan the pa.s.s again, and then repeated the words which he knew so well.

"Pa.s.s _Virginia Cary_ and escort through Federal--and Confederate lines."

"'Virginia Cary,' General, is a non-combatant and a child. 'Escort' may mean a single person--or it may mean a whole troop of cavalry."

To his infinite relief and joy his Commanding General looked up at him thoughtfully, then slowly rose from his desk and took a turn about the room, followed by a faint blue trail of cigar smoke. He paused.

"And what does _Cary_ say?" he asked.

Again Harris smiled the quiet smile of the lawyer who has been confronted with such questions before and knows well how to answer them.

"He, too, is on trial for his life. His evidence, naturally, was not admitted."

"Ah! Then what says _Morrison_?"

"Nothing, sir," was the young lieutenant's calm reply. "The burden of proof lies with the prosecution--not with the defendant."

"And this is your contention--your _legal_ flaw in my machine?" the General asked sharply.

"It is."

"Very good, sir--very good. In that case we'll call in these silent partners and dig into this case until we reach rock bottom!"

"Forbes," he ordered. "Send for the prisoner, Mr. Morrison--and the Rebel, Herbert Cary. I want both of them here--at once!"

In the pause which followed the Adjutant's exit Harris interposed an objection.

"Your method, General, is hardly just to the interests of my client."

Grant turned on him with something mere than impatience. He was growing angry.

"Lieutenant Harris! Are you asking me to pardon a guilty man? It's the truth I want--not legal technicalities. Next you'll be asking me not to hang this Rebel spy because he has--a baby!"

He went back to his accustomed place at the window and stood looking out again, his hands clasped loosely behind his back, the eternal cigar smoke rising above his head. Then, to the young lieutenant's amazement, he asked a question in tones of ordinary conversation.

"Harris," he said. "Who was the man who preferred these charges to start with?"

"Corporal Dudley," was the eager answer.

"And there, General, is another point and a vital one that was not brought out. In reporting his Colonel, Dudley was actuated not by a spirit of military duty, but personal revenge."

"Revenge? Why?"

"Because Morrison shot and killed Dudley's brother--a Sergeant in his command."

The General came back from his window.

"Again--why?"

"For insubordination--incendiarism--attempted desertion," came the swift reply.

The General's eyebrows raised a fraction of an inch. He seated himself at his desk and unrolled a map.

"Any witnesses of the Sergeant's death?" he asked evenly as he proceeded to study his map.