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"Me!--No, sir. But you spoke as if--"

"Has he a taste for fiction?" I asked, with a depreciative smirk.

I dared not retort, but I looked so hard at his paunch that the General smiled. Then he asked me if I knew where we were then camped, and I said we were on the Meadville and Fayette road, near Franklin, twenty miles southeast of Fayette and--

"And the one following, almost at his side?"

"I don't believe," said I, "I'd better put myself on the old gentleman when the mistress of the house is away."

It was the envelope which had contained Coralie Rothvelt's pass. Its four flaps were spread open, and on the inside was scrawled in a large black writing the following:

No, he would not; only wagons went that way, to cross the creek by a small bridge. I could cut off nearly two miles by taking the bridle-path that turned sharply down into the thick woods of the creek-bottom about a quarter of a mile from the house and crossed the stream at a sandy ford. "Ride round," he said, "and I'll show you from the front of the house."

"Good-morning, Smith, who is your prisoner?"

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