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The patient gentleman smiled again as he said, "Oh--Gholson can attend to that."

At the door the Colonel gave me a last look. "Good-night, Legs."

"Why, I can read my safety in your face. You can't read anything in mine; you're afraid to look."

"Hmm; Charlotte Oliver. Are you sure you have the name just right?"

Five, ten, fifteen minutes dragged by. Counting them helped me to lie still. Then I caught another pregnant sound, a mumbling of male voices in the adjoining front room. I waited a bit, hearkening laboriously, and then ever so gradually I slid from the bed, put on everything except my boots, and moved by inches to the door between the two rooms. It was very thin; "a good sounding-board," thought I as I listened for life or death and hoped my ear was the only one against it.

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