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"Borrowed!" echoed the sergeant. "If he doesn't own that mare no man does."

"Guess I'm the first Yankee y' ever caught, ain't I?" His smile was superior, but congratulatory.

"I am," was his reply, and my heart leaped for joy. We hurried away. My captive was the most daring union scout between Vicksburg and New Orleans; these very Harpers knew that. The thing unknown to us was that already his fate was entangled with Ned Ferry's and Charlotte Oliver's, as yet more it would be, with theirs and ours, in days close at hand.

"No."

"One too modest," I murmured, "to know her own portrait." I clutched the braid emotionally and let it go intending to retake it; but she dropped it behind her and said I was too imaginative to be safe.

"Nonsense!" muttered both men, and I liked them the better.

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

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