ment until a St. Louis boat appeared.

"I am glad you did not go to a hotel," said their host, when he had
given them a cordial welcome. "I heard last night that your entire
company was going up the river, and that the authorities were thinking
strongly of putting the last one of you under arrest."

Rodney and his father were speechless with astonishment.

"What business would they have to put us in arrest?" exclaimed the
former, as soon as he found his tongue.

"How did the authorities learn that the Rangers had any notion of going
up the river?" asked Mr. Gray.

"I am sure I don't know," answered the host. "But it was currently
reported on the street yesterday afternoon that the Mooreville company
had mutinied, and that the Baton Rouge Rifles might have to go out there
and bring them to a sense of their duty."

"Well, if that isn't the most outrageous falsehood that was ever
circulated about a lot of honest men I wouldn't say so," exclaimed
Rodney, who had never in his life been more amazed. "We didn't mutiny.
We simply refused to be sworn into the service of the Confederate
States, and that was something we had a right to do. I will tell you how
that story got abroad," he added, suddenly. "There's some one in
Mooreville who wants to get us into trouble, and I think I know who it
is."

At this moment the door was softly opened and a darkey put his head into
the room to announce:

"Da's a gentleman in de back pa'lor wants to see Moster Rodney."

CHAPTER V.

A WARNING.

"A gentleman to see me?" repeated Rodney, his surprise and indignation
giving place to a feeling of uneasiness. "Who is he? What's his name?"

"I dunno, sah," replied the servant. "I never seen him round here
afore."

Wondering who the visitor could be and how he knew where to find him,
seeing that he and his father had not been in that house more than half
an hour, the Harrington boy arose and followed the servant into the back
parlor. Whom he expected to meet when he got there it is hard to tell,
but it is certain that he felt greatly relieved when he found that the
visitor was a Mooreville boy--a "student" in the telegraph office. His
uneasy feelings vanished at once only to return with redoubled force
when Griffin--that was the visitor's name--said in a loud, earnest
whisper:

"Shut the door tight and come up close so that you can hear every word I
say. I am liable to