m. From amid the thud of hoofs, and the rattle of accoutrements, a
voice spoke sharply:

"So you're here, Farrell, you old rebel hypocrite. Well, what are you
hiding now?"

"I was not aware that I had anything to hide, Captain Grant," was the
dignified response. "This is my shop, an' where I should be."

"Oh, hell! We all know you well enough, you old fox, and we'll catch you
red-handed yet, and hang you. But we're not hunting after your kind
to-day. Did you see anything of a fellow in scarlet jacket along here
last night, or this morning?"

I failed to catch Farrell's answer, but the voice of the officer was
sufficiently loud to reach me.

"A rebel spy; the sneaking rascal must have swam the Delaware. We'll look
about your shop just the same before we ride on. Mason, take a half-dozen
men with you, and rake the place over."

I heard the sound of their boots on the floor, and burrowed lower in my
box. Two or three entered the old shop, and began to probe about among
the _debris_. One kicked the box in which I lay, and thrust a bayonet
down through the loose papers, barely missing my shoulder. With teeth
clinched I remained breathless, but the fellow seemed satisfied, and
moved on, after searching the dark corner beyond. At last I heard them
all go out, mumbling to each other, and ventured to sit up again, and
draw a fresh breath. They had left the door ajar, and I had a glimpse
through the crack. Farrell was leaning carelessly in the outer doorway,
smoking, his short legs wide apart, his expression one of total
indifference. A big fellow stepped past him, and saluted some one just
out of sight.

"Nobody in there, sir," he reported.

"All right, Mason," and Grant came into view on a rangy sorrel. "Get your
men back into saddle; we'll move on."

"Think he went this way?" asked the blacksmith carelessly.

"How the hell do I know!" savagely. "He must have started this way, but
likely he took the north road. We'll get the chap before night, unless he
runs into Delavan's fellows out yonder. See here, Farrell," holding in
his horse, "we'll be back here about dark, and will want something to
eat."

"You will be welcome to all you find."

"You impudent rebel, you see that you are here when we come. I know you,
you night raider, and will bring you to book yet. Forward men--trot!
Close up the rank there, sergeant; we'll take the road to the left."

I watched them go past, the dust-covered green uniforms slipping by