orce of
Watson's reasoning. The Major rose to his feet. He was smiling away again,
as if he were enjoying himself.

"We surrender!" announced Watson with a woebegone expression on his strong
face.

"You'll admit," said Lightfoot, "that I was too clever for you?"

There was no answer. George picked up Waggie. "Can I take my dog along
with us, wherever we go?" he asked.

[Illustration: The Major Merely Changed the Position of His Legs]

The Major suddenly advanced towards George, and patted the tiny animal.
"Hello! Waggie, how are you, old man?" he cried.

George gasped. "How on earth did you know Waggie's name?" he asked. For
Waggie had been chewing at a bone on the floor ever since the entrance of
the Confederate, and his master had not addressed a word to him during
that time.

"I know his name almost as well as I do yours, George Knight," said
Lightfoot.

In his excitement George dropped Waggie on a chair. The three Northerners
heard this last announcement with open-mouthed astonishment.

Lightfoot burst into a great laugh that made the mystery the more intense.
"Why, comrades," he cried, "I ought to go on the stage; I had no idea I
was such a good actor. Don't you know your friend, Walter Jenks?" The
Southern accent of the speaker had suddenly disappeared.

The listeners stood dumfounded. Then the whole situation dawned upon them.
They had been most gloriously and successfully duped. This Major Lightfoot
was none other than Walter Jenks, a sergeant from General Mitchell's camp,
whom Andrews had sent out on the bridge-burning party. He had shaved off
his beard, and assumed a Southern accent (something he was able to do
because he was a Marylander), so that the guests at the Page mansion had
failed to recognize him.

Jenks shook the three warmly by the hand. "It was a mean trick to play on
you fellows," he explained, lowering his voice, "but for the life of me I
couldn't resist the temptation."

"How on earth did you turn up here in the guise of a Confederate officer?"
asked Watson, who now felt a sense of exhilaration in knowing that he
might yet join Andrews at Marietta.

"It is too long a story to tell," whispered Jenks. "I'll only say here
that I got lost from the other two fellows I was traveling with--was
suspected of being a spy in one of the villages I passed through--and, to
avoid pursuit, had to shave off my beard and disguise myself in this
Confederate uniform, which I was lucky enough to 'ap