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"Good-bye, New Orleans soldier-boy," she said, gaily, and as I raised my cap she gave herself a fetching air and added, "I'll wager I know your name."

"Cockerel, did you say?"

"Smith, I want them to get it. I want them to rob you of this." He waggled the envelope. "I want this to fall into the hands of the enemy; as it will if those people rob you of it."

"Mis-ter Smith! you wrote that?--to-day! Wh'--who is she?"

"--With General Austin," I continued, "--and with Lieutenant Ferry?"

I said with genuine warmth that if he would give me that man's name--etc.

"Whose hand was it; that fellow's, yonder?" Oliver was several paces away.

"Hello!" called the Federal officer, "who are you, over there?"

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