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

He smiled. "No, but I can put some there if you want it."

The aunt and her nieces were standing in the carry-all, she majestic, they laughing and weeping in the one act. I waved them into their seats.

I was moving briskly along, making my good steed acquainted with me, testing his education, how promptly for instance, he would respond to rein-touch and to leg-pressure, when I saw, in front, coming toward me, three riders. Two of them were very genteel chaps, though a hand of each was on the lock of his carbine. The third was a woman, veiled, and clad in some dark stuff that in the starlight seemed quite black and contrasted strongly with the paleness of her horse. Her hat, in particular, fastened my attention; if that was not the same soft-brimmed Leghorn I had seen yesterday morning, at least it was its twin sister. I halted, revolver in hand, and said, as they drew rein,--"Good-evening."

"Oh!--don't you wish you knew! Why, to myself, for instance. Come! duty calls."

"You sa-ay 'Whah is it?'--ow batt'ry"--he champed noisily--"I dunno. Does you? Whah is it?"

His son's attitude exasperated him. "You know this ain't ever been our way; you'd say so, yourself, ef you wa'n't skin full o' china-ball whiskey! What in all hell is the reason we can't do him as we've always done the others?"

He lighted up with happy relief. "No, you need not make it. And you need not turn so pale." Whereat I turned red. "She saw the despatch was a trap for the Yankees, and used it so, you think? Ah, yes, Smith, I see it all, now; she pumped you dry."

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