ned to his grinning squad.

"Bright little youngster! Still, I think we'll have a look." He dropped
his air of amusement, growing stern again. "Now, men! Ready!"

They swung into line and faced the cupboard, the muzzles of their
carbines trained upon it, while their leader advanced, swung open the
doors, and quickly stepped aside.

On the bottom shelf, as Virgie had declared, were a few disconsolate tin
pans; yet tacked to the door was a picture print of Mosby--that dreaded
guerrilla whose very name was a bugaboo in the Union lines.

The littlest rebel flung back her head and laughed.

"My, but you looked funny!" she cried to the somewhat disconcerted
officer, pointing at him with her spoon. "If a mouse had jumped out, I
reckon it would have scared you mos' to death."

The officer's cheeks flushed red, in spite of his every effort at
control; nor was he assisted by the knowledge that his men were
tittering behind his back. He turned upon them sharply.

"That will do," he said, and gave a brusque command: "Corporal, deploy
your men and make a thorough search outside. Examine the ground around
the spring--and report!"

"Yes, sir," returned Corporal Dudley saluting and dropping his hand
across his mouth to choke off an exclamation of anger. Then he snarled
at his men, to ease the pain of thwarted vengeance: "_'Tention! Right
face! Forward! March!_"

The squad trooped out across the broken door, leaving their commanding
officer alone with his rebel prisoner.

"Now, Virgie," he asked, in a kindly tone, though holding her eyes with
his, "do you mean to tell me--cross your heart--that you are here, just
by yourself?"

"Er--no, sir." As he opened his lips to speak, she pointed to her doll.
"Me an' Susan Jemima."

"Well, that's a fact," he laughed. "Hanged if I'm not losing all my
social polish." He gallantly removed his hat, bowed gravely to the cedar
stick, and shook its hand. "Charmed to make your acquaintance, Miss
Susan, believe me. My own name is Morrison--Lieutenant-Colonel
Morrison--at your service." He turned to the little mother with a smile
that showed a row of white and even teeth. "And now," he said, "since we
are all informally introduced, suppose we have a quiet, comfortable
chat." He paused, but she made no answer. "Well? Aren't you going to ask
me to have some breakfast?"

Virgie cast a troubled gaze into the plate before her.

"Er--no, sir."

"What? Why not?"

She faltered, and answered slo