of the
strongest willed men that he had ever met, and that he must test out
the other man to the depths and be himself tried out to the limit of
his strength.

"It is some years since I've seen you, Bishop. But we are both busy
men. And--well-- You know I am glad to have you come to see me. I need
not tell you that."

The Bishop accepted the other man's frank courtesy and took a chair
quietly. Stanton watched him carefully. The Bishop was showing the
last few years a good deal, he thought. In reality it was the last
month that the Bishop was showing. But it did not show in the
steady, untroubled glow of his eyes. The Bishop wasted no time on
preliminaries.

"I have come on business, of course, Mr. Stanton," he began. "It is a
very strange and unusual business. And to come at it rightly I must
tell you a story. At the end of the story I will ask you a question.
That will be my whole business."

The other man said nothing. He did not understand and he never spoke
until he was sure that he understood. The Bishop plunged into his
story.

"One January day in 'Sixty-five' I was going up the Shenandoah alone.
My command had left me behind for two days of hospital service at
Cross Keys. They were probably some twenty miles ahead of me and would
be crossing over the divide towards Five Forks and the east. I thought
I knew a way by which I could cut off a good part of the distance that
separated me from them, so I started across the Ridge by a path which
would have been impossible for troops in order.

"I was right. I did cut off the distance which I had expected and came
down in the early afternoon upon a good road that ran up the eastern
side of the Ridge. I was just congratulating myself that I would be
with my men before dark, when a troop of Confederate cavalry came
pelting over a rise in the road behind me.

"I leaped my horse back into the brush at the side of the road and
waited. They would sweep on past and allow me to go on my way. Behind
them came a troop of our own horse pursuing hotly. The Confederate
horses were well spent. I saw that the end of the pursuit was not far
off. The Confederates--some detached band of Early's men, I
imagine--realised that they would soon be run down. Just where I had
left the road there was a sharp turn. Here the Confederates threw
themselves from their horses and drew themselves across the road. They
were in perfect ambush, for they could be seen scarcely fifteen yards
back o