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.