Waterbury evening Democrat. [volume] (Waterbury, Conn.) 1887-1895, 1892-07-23

count, ST used to think that summer
you were pretty soft on her"
Indeed? On whom?"
Carolyn Clay. She nas a beauty,
though. George! how she could ride
and shoot! A perfect thoroughbred!
But you did seem pretty hard hit!'
Ibid L? pom my word, Iforget," Fitz-
hugh retorted, with controlled, tongue;
but his eyes glowed, as they measured
the other man, now stretching unstead-
lily across the table. ''What ever became
of Miss Clay?"
"She's all right, old boyl She"
Suddenly Meredith checked himself,
steadying his body against the cushion,
as he gazed at his querist with a stare
meant to be penetrating, but too large
ly tinctured with alcohol. "She's some
where over in Virginia, suppose"
"Well, 1 hope we may meet-in the
| spring." Fitzhugh answered, quietly;
and he reflled the others glass, adding
a drop to his own full one. "Here's to
good old times, Carrollr'
ITO old times it is! Damn it, Peyton,
meeting you does bring 'em back!
Many jolly tear, eh2" and he gulped
down the fiery cognac as it had been
water. "Ah, that's the stuff You're
right Woman's wine, champagne.
What were we saying?- Carolyn Clay?
Yes; she's grand girl!-she's a soldier!-
Peyton, oil boy, if wasn't pledged-if
1 dared-I might tell you something to
'stonish- Whose shot is it? Mine?''
He broke off abruptly, turning to the
table and playing wildly, but counting.
| Again Fitzhugh's eyes sought the clock
anxiously. 1t marked the quarter to
| twelve.
Camel he cried, suddenly. "Ill bet
you a terrapin supper you can't beat
me, the next game we play. This room
is too hot. Come, let's get into the air.
One night-cap, and I'll walk home with
you"
Again he filed the glasses with steady
hand. Again Meredith drained his,
lurching heavily towards the hat-racl
Then the two locked arms, passing into
the black December night. The cold
wind, contrasting to the close room,
drove the alcohol fumes faster to Mere
dith's brain, loosening his legs and his
tongue in equal degree.
Eyes, sir! Carolyn Clay's soldier, ev'ry
inch Braves girl yo' ever heard o.
An it'll Will McKee,"-he gabbled on
with a chuckle-''tha' httr shrimp!-
Peyton, you'd new s'pect society beat
like him-damn sush pavement!-you't
new s'pect shrimp like him-KnowI car
trust you, OF boyl But he's rislxin' oil
capitol"
When Peyton Fitzhugh had found
Carroll Meredith's night-key, left hin
in his room, and turned once more int
the night, he muttered to himself:
ga gentleman in soul, with a big
| Rz1I
and mel But had to do itp'
Pulling his soft hat down over hi
face, and throwing the collar of hi
long ulster high about 1t, the spy strod
rapidly through the deserted streets
turned into an alley-way, and halte'
before low arch, where a sentr.
carry, and the spy, passing him unques
toned, mounted the steps to a dim-i
hall, where an orderly dozed at a desk
major in, Caspar?" he asked, abrupt
, ly, and, receiving answer, tapped at
} door labeled 'adjutant general" A
; he entered, slight, boyish office
, glanced up from dispatches httering hi
{ desk.
.'Umi you're on time," he said
l abruptly, as the neighboring clocl
/
? later, you had found the Office shut
! at said would be here by twelve
major" the spy answered. 81 was d.
tanned by duty Any orders for m
sir?"
l "None. Important news from yor
3 general, though; SO Washington wir,
me. He failed to strike Stuart's al
vance, under Rosser, that morning yc
: guided him to Beckley's crossroad
The damned rebel was beforehand m