st-class horse, and the
Union password, and he--"

"Martha! What are you doing down there?" came in the voice of Colonel
Dick Bradner, as he appeared at the head of the cellar stairs. "I
thought you promised Dan to leave the prisoner alone for the present."

"I am not hurting him--nor is he hurting me," called back Mrs. Bradner.

"I wouldn't talk too much to him--at least, not about our affairs or
Dan's."

"Colonel, I am able to manage for myself," was the icy response to this
suggestion. "If it had not been for me we would not have captured
this--this good-for-nothing Yankee."

"Perhaps that is true, my dear. But be sure and tell him nothing about
Dan."

"Oh, dear, I can never do anything without your interference!" burst out
the lady, petulantly. "Joe, lock him in again;" and she flounced out of
the cellar, past the colonel, who tried in vain to detain her, and up to
her own room. The negro did as ordered, and Artie was left once more to
himself.

What the captain had learned filled him with interest. Gossley was not
only going to hold him for the money that might be gotten out of such a
proceeding, but he was going to hold him until a secret mission for
General Bragg could be executed. The guerilla chief was now a spy within
the Union lines.

"If only Life knew that, and knew I was here," he half groaned. "I must
get away from here--not only for my own sake, but in order to make
Gossley a prisoner and thus prevent him from carrying any news of
importance to the Confederates. How can I get away?"

Over and over again Artie asked himself that question. In the meantime
he began work on the board again, this time without a light. After
several minutes of twisting and pulling the board came off, revealing
several panes of glass, set in a window frame. But beyond the glass was
a mass of dirt, showing that the cellar opening had been completely
closed up from the outside.

For the instant the captain was dismayed; then his natural buoyancy of
spirit returned. "I can dig that dirt away, sooner or later," he
muttered, and set to work removing the glass.

A job of this sort looks easy, on paper; in reality Artie found the task
quite hard, and it took the best part of an hour to remove the panes
without making a noise. The glass out of the way, he drew his
pocket-knife and began to dig at the dirt, which came away easily,
falling in clods into his hand. The clods he placed on the cement
flooring directly under th