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"Indeed he does! I don't like to say it, and I don't say he drinks 'too much', as they call it; but, Smith, he drinks with men who do! Oh, I admire him; only I do wish--"

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."

"And a suit of unie-fawm!" called Cécile, with her Creole accent.

"Now, here is another matter of much more importance." He showed, but retained, another envelope. "Behind the house where you're to find Miss Rothvelt there's a road into Cole's Creek bottom. The house you're to stop at to-night, say from twelve o'clock till three or half-past, is on that road, about five miles from Wiggins, from Clifton and from Fayette. I'm sending you there expecting the people in that house will rob you if you give them half a chance."

"How long have you belonged to Ferry's scouts?" sceptically demanded their spokesman.

I attempted an evasion. "Oh--a blanket on the ground--face covered up in it from the mosquitos--is really--"

"He did. Or, to be accurate, Lieutenant Ferry-Durand. My dear Richard, we cannot be witty and remain un-talked-about."

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