The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1892-08-31

teer again grumbled:
Cum! the old spy's trick. Search him,
sergeant! Do you hear?"
Without word of protest, Evan sub
mitted to thorough search by the lean
old sergeant, q regular with chevrons
for service, which yet could not keep
his lips Quite steady, as he finished his
task and reported, handing over his
treasures:
zone letter, two passes, sir; one pipe,
one hoof-pick, one buckle, one piece of
twine." And the veterans hand went
from his cap to his side. as the major
nervously grasped the enumerated
captures.
s'Major!' The clear call from the
little statue at the fire wheeled the
provost marshal like top; and he adj
vanced eagerly, saluting with the hand
that held his prizes.
''Stop that farce" the general con-
tinued, dryly. eff that fellow is really
spy, he made way with his proofs On
capture. These are decoys only"
IT think, general, he swallowed"-
the provost blurted out-adding, very
quickly, s'his tobacco"
The keen blue eyes shot only one
glance at the speaker, now eagerly
scanning the papers by light of the fire.
ssHe did? I'm! send him to my tent."
eyes, general. Will you examine
theseg'
'sNo, sir. Send HIM to me- This
shortly, as the young leader took the
papers earelessly and turned into the
small, dingy tent beyond the blaze.
Seating himself on a campstool, he
merely glanced at the papers, by the
pale CLEAN of a lantern. They were
scrawled letter from soldier, far
rier's receipt, and q weeks liberty,
signed by the captain of B troop, but
without date. He pitched them on the
rough camp table with contemptuous
gesture, muttering:
ssDecoysAif she be a,spy! Curse these
mustangs! Politics hobble the service,
no end"
A shadow in the tent door raised the
generals eyes, as Miss Clay entered,
erect and calm, followed by Evan, lean
ing on the sergeant.
Keenly the cavalry header scanned
the pair, his eyes passing from the girl
after quick inventory of her points"
Ito Fauntleroy, then quickly back to
her.
'sDo you know, sir, that I can hang
you at daylight?'' He shot the question
at Evan like bullet.
eyes, sir-or shoot me tonight" the
boy answered, quietly. 'But I do not
think you will"
"You are a spy"
ssHe is not Miss Clay's voice rang
out clear and defiant. 'sHe is a con-
federate soldier, and in uniform. He is
prisoner of war"
Sand are you also?' The young gem
'eral rose gracefully as he addressed tie
lady, instinctively Strengthening his
saber and brushing back his damp curls,
with half-boyish air of foppery. as he
tossed his hat on the table.
Miss Clay's eyes met her questioner's
steadily, but with unmistakable de-
fance, as she answered:
81 am not, sir. I am a non-com-
Blatant, Virginia lady on her way to
her aunt's home, arrested and dragged
here without cause or excuse for the
outrage! You doubtless could hang US
both to-morrow-or now, il it suits your
governments theories of war; but its
articles protect this youth and release
me-
The generals eyes again inventoried
the speaker with curiosity that had
some adpiration mixed with it, but he
answered, calmly:
Gum! you seem familiar with the
articles of war. Did you study them at
your aunt's, or-in camp? What is your
name?"
''Carrie Fauntleyoy-my first cousin,
sir" Evan broke in, quickly. his eye
catching the papers on the table, before
the girl could reply.
sis that trueT'
The federal general questioned the
man, but his gaze never left the face OF
the woman turned defantly upon him,
now suffused with glow Of anger that
never deepened under his scrutiny.
s'My cousin is a virginian, sir" she
answered for him, as he had done for
her. 'We are never ashamed Of our
Names"
A quick chances sent her Evans thanks
that she had caught his meaning-that
her own name was too well known
along the border to be rished in this
new peril. Whether the general caught
that glance or not, he seemed inn
pressed by its reflection in her eyes.
from which his own had never swerved;
for, after brief pause, he asked. sud-
denly:
sat what point, miss, did you hope to
reach the river2"
If he expected start or flush for an
answer, it was in vain. Carolyn Clay
had been in close places before, If not so
perilous as this; and she answered, as
calmly and naturally as though declin-
ing an ice:
''My aunt lives inland, sir; not on the
river"
A half smile he could not repress
fiickered an instant about the cavalry
leaders lips, quickly replaced by their
habitual sternness, as he retorted:
at is q strange hour and strange