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The young man laughed and turned to go. "Why doesn't Ned Ferry make her let Gholson alone? He can do it; he's got her round his finger as tight as she's got Gholson round hers."

"Suppose it wasn't either."

"What do you mean?" I demanded. "To whom are you pledged for any such--"

"Yes,"--she put away gaiety--"your orders are plain; and they're as cruel as they are plain!"

"Oh, I don't doubt you have; though I didn't know but it might be Charlie Toliver or something."

My problem was indeed simplified. The despatch had been stolen, opened, read, re-sealed and returned. All I now had to do was to lie here till daybreak and then get away if I could, deliver the despatch to Ned Ferry, and tell him--ah! what?--how much? Oh, my bemired soul, how much must I tell? My shame I might bear; I might wash it out in blood at the battle's front; but my perfidy! how much was it perfidy to withhold; how much was it perfidy to confess?

"No, it ain't too stinkin' polite."

"True; but neither are the enemy, and they're early risers, you know."

"Two Federal officers."

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