"I will have to examine that," he said.

"Take it!" she said, hastily unwrapping it and dropping it into his
hands. It contained no secret message that day, as it had before--only
water scalding hot, and the guard dropped it with a howl of pain, and
turned away to nurse his burned hands, while "Crazy Bet" went into the
prison smiling a broad and meaningless smile.

Well did the Spy play her role, as months went by; more loudly she
hummed, more vacantly she smiled, and more diligently she worked to
obtain information regarding the number and placing of Confederate
troops, which information she sent on at once to Federal headquarters.
Day by day she worked, daring loss of life, and spending her entire
fortune for the sake of the cause which was dearer to her than a good
name or riches--the preservation of the Union and the abolishing of
slavery.

From the windows of the Libby, and from Belle Isle, the prisoners
could see passing troops and supply-trains and give shrewd guesses at
their strength and destination, making their conjectures from the
roads by which they saw the Confederates leave the town. Also they
often heard scraps of conversations between surgeons or prison guards,
which they hoarded like so much gold, to pass on to "Crazy Bet," and
so repay her kindness and her lavish generosity, which was as sincere
as her underlying motive was genuine. Meals at the Van Lew mansion
grew less and less bountiful, even meager,--not one article did either
Elizabeth Van Lew or her loyal mother buy for themselves, but spent
their ample fortune without stint on the sick and imprisoned in their
city, while there was never an hour of her time that the Federal Spy
gave to her own concerns. If there was nothing else to be done, she
was writing a home letter for some heart-sick prisoner from the North,
and secretly carrying it past the censors to be sure that it should
reach the anxious family eagerly awaiting news of a loved one.

"Crazy Bet" loaned many books to the prisoners, which were returned
with a word or sentence or a page number faintly underlined here and
there. In the privacy of her own room, the Spy would piece them
together and read some important bit of news which she instantly sent
to Federal headquarters by special messenger, as she had ceased using
the mails in the early stages of the war. Or a friendly little note
would be handed her with its hidden meaning impossible to decipher
except by one who knew the