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The General looked at me between puffs of his cigar. "I hear you've ridden over fifty miles to-day."

I thought I did until I glanced at the superscription: Miss Coralie Rothvelt.

"Good-evening," replied the nearer man. "How far is it to camp--Austin's?"

"Ferry's scouts. What command is yours, gentlemen?"

We came as close to them as was wise, and had to walk our horses. I could discern Miss Rothvelt's features once more, and felt a truer deference than I had yet given her. Near the blacksmith's shop, in the dusk of some shade-trees, she once more touched my shoulder. I turned resentfully to bid her not do it, but her shadowy gaze stopped me.

"Oh, that's all right, I was only asking a friendly question."

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