ced so much confidence in him; and
he hoped the captain would decide to keep him and let his pilot go. For
a time it looked as though the hope might be realized, for the captain
hesitated and stammered in such a way that there was no doubt left in
Marcy's mind that he was loth to give Tierney up; but seeing the boy's
eyes fastened upon him with a most searching glance Beardsley aroused
himself to say:

"Of course; _of_ course."

"Would you feel safe at sea knowing that you had a traitor among the
crew--one who was waiting and watching for an opportunity to turn you
and your vessel over to the Yankees?" continued Marcy.

"No, I wouldn't," and the words came out quickly and honestly. "I
wouldn't live on a vessel under them conditions."

"Well, whom are you going to keep--him or me?"

"You, of course. I couldn't get along without somebody who knows Crooked
Inlet better than I do. Going to Nashville after your mail? Well, when
you come back ride round to the schooner and you'll find that Tierney
isn't there."

"What good will it do to ride around to the schooner?" thought the boy,
as he gave his horse the rein and galloped out of the yard. "Of course
Tierney wouldn't be there. He would hear me coming through the bushes
and have plenty of time to jump ashore and hide himself. A blind man
ought to see that I did right when I went to Beardsley with my story. He
never asked what the plot was until he committed himself, nor did he
inquire how many there were in it, nor did he get half as mad over it
as he would if Tierney were a sure-enough Union man. It was a put-up
job, I tell you, and who knows but there may be others of much the same
sort hanging over me at this very minute? I do despise secret enemies."

News travels rapidly when all the people in a place are thinking and
talking about the same things, and Marcy saw the fact illustrated when
he reached Nashville. The mail and express packages were delayed by an
accident to the wagon in which they were conveyed to and from the
nearest stage station; it took two or three hours to repair it, so that
it was mid-day before Marcy was ready to start for home. He always
dreaded an enforced delay in town, and tried to time himself so that he
would reach the post-office after everybody else had left it. In the
days gone by he had been on friendly terms with all the Nashville people
who were worth knowing, but it was not so now. He was treated civilly
enough, but rather coolly