"I see you caught my name up to the tent. It saves me the trouble of introducing myself. I am Captain Brentford, of General Bragg's staff."

"I presume you gained considerable information while inside the Union lines," went on Deck, curiously.

"I did gain a good deal, but not as much as one would wish. Your fellows are pretty close-mouthed. I must give them credit for it. I wish I could say as much for our gallant boys of the South."

"I don't suppose it will do me any good to ask where you have been."

"Oh, I won't mind telling you, now we are over here. I have been up to the Widow Glenn's house."

"To General Rosecrans' headquarters!" gasped Deck, in consternation.

"I see it almost overwhelms you to think a Southern spy could get close to Union headquarters. A clever trick did it--a trick I learned when I was in the detective bureau at Washington."

"You impersonated one of our officers?"

"Exactly. The poor fellow was dead, and I donned his coat and hat, fixed up my face to suit, and took his place for ten hours. It was tough on the dead officer, but he will never make a kick."

"I believe you killed him," said Deck, bluntly.

A frown crossed the face of Captain Brentford. "We will let that pa.s.s, Major Lyon; it will do no good for us to say things which are unpleasant. I want you to look at something else."

"Look at something else?"

"Your own personal position. Do you realize the nasty situation you are in?"

"Having heard of the horrors of your Southern prisons, I think I do."

"It is my duty to hand you over to the officers at the prisoners' camp, a mile or so from here."

"I suppose you will do your duty."

"To make a prisoner of such a young and promising fellow as yourself seems a great pity."

"I am willing to take what comes, as the fortunes of war," replied Deck, who did not propose to be led into showing the white feather, especially in front of such a coldly polished rascal as Captain Brentford appeared to be.

"Are you willing to be sent to prison, to languish there until the close of this struggle?"

"I am willing to submit to that which I cannot alter."

"Ah, that is more like it." Captain Brentford looked around, to see that n.o.body was in sight. "Major Lyon, I am tired, let us sit under yonder tree for a few minutes and rest."

"I don't care much to rest in these wet clothes. I may take cold."

"You are no wetter than myself. I think it may pay you to take the rest I propose."

"If you order a rest, I cannot do anything but obey, Captain Brentford,"

concluded Deck, and walked to the spot indicated.

At the tent where they had stopped, his coat had been wrung out for him and his boots emptied, so he was not so badly off as might be supposed, although far from as comfortable as he would have been had his garments been dry. He was now totally unarmed, even his sabre, extra pistol, and pocket knife having been taken from him. In addition to this his hands had been tied loosely together behind his back.

There was a large, flat rock under the tree designated, and Deck deposited himself on this, in the shelter of the slight breeze that was blowing. The captain took up a position opposite, so that he had a square view of his prisoner's face.

"Major Lyon, I think I am safe in making you a proposal," he began, after a moment's pause.

"What sort of a proposal, Captain Brentford?"

"I think you would rather recross the creek and join your command than go ahead to where I am to take you."

"That goes without saying."

"Exactly. And that being so, supposing we try to come to terms."

"I must confess I don't understand you," said Deck, much puzzled by his captor's words.

"It is too bad that I must speak plainer. You wish to return to the Union lines. Very well, what is it worth to you?"

"Worth to me?"

"That is what I said. I am a plain-spoken man, and to me a spade is a spade and not an instrument for upturning the soil."

"But I don't understand you, Captain Brentford. If you mean what is it worth in money, let me state that I am not worth ten dollars, all told, at the present moment."

"I know exactly what you have in your pocket, a five dollar goldpiece and four dollars in United States scrip that won't be worth anything after the Confederacy gets done with the North."

"Then what are you driving at?"

"You have something else about you which might prove of far more value to me than money."

"And that is--" began Deck, hesitatingly.

"Information. Now do you understand?"

The cat was out of the bag, and the major drew a long breath. At the same time a look of deep scorn came into his loyal eyes.

"So you wish me to buy my liberty through what information I may be able to give you concerning the Union troops and their proposed movements?"

he said slowly.

"I did not put it that way."

"You suggested it, then."

"We will let it stand at that." Captain Brentford's face took on a sharp look. "What do you say to it?"

"I say, Captain Brentford, that you are a scoundrel to suggest such a thing to me."

"A scoundrel!"

"Yes, a scoundrel. Perhaps, were you placed as I am placed, you would barter your very soul to gain your liberty; I am made of different stuff--and I thank G.o.d for it!" answered Deck, with all the fervor of his patriotic heart.