He blew on his fingers and let her pick it up and pa.s.s on.

The woman had fooled the guard completely, but she had not been so successful with d.i.c.k. The trick was _too_ smoothly done. No woman with an unbalanced mind would have been capable of it.

With extraordinary care the Captain followed her through the crowded streets and saw her pa.s.s Socola in front of the Custom House. No sign of recognition was made by either, but he saw the stenographer stoop and pick up something from the edge of the sidewalk.

He would have thought nothing of such an act had he not been following this woman on whom his suspicions had been fixed. He leaped at once to the truth.

Miss Van Lew had dropped a cypher message and Socola had taken it.

He watched her again the next day, and, suddenly turning the corner of an obscure street, saw Socola speak to her in low quick tones, raising his voice on his appearance to an idle conventional greeting.

He pa.s.sed them without apparently noticing anything unusual and hurried to his office with his suspicions now a burning certainty. He had only to wait his opportunity to trap his quarry in the possession of a dispatch that would send him to the gallows.

His evidence was not yet sufficient to ask for his arrest. It was sufficient to convince Jennie Barton whose loyalty to the South was so intense she would not walk on the same side of the street with Miss Van Lew.

He rushed to the Barton house.

Jennie saw before he spoke that he bore a message of tragic import.

"What is it, d.i.c.k?" she asked under her breath. "Why do you look at me so?"

"Jennie," he began seriously, "you are sure that you love the South?"

"Don't ask me idiotic questions," she answered sternly; "what are you driving at?"

"If I prove to you that the man to whom you have pledged your love is an impostor--"

She lifted her head in a gesture of cold protest.

"I thought we had settled that question."

"But you must listen to me," he went on with calm persistence. "If I prove to you that this man is a Federal spy--"

Jennie broke into a laugh.

"I can't get mad at you--you're such a big clumsy goose--"

"I said if I _prove_ it--"

There was no mistaking the fact that he was in dead earnest.

The girl's face went white and her eyes took on a hard glitter.

"Now, d.i.c.k Welford, that you've said it--you've _got_ to prove it--"

The Captain lifted his hand solemnly.

"I'll prove it. You know Miss Van Lew, the old abolitionist on Church Hill?--"

"I don't know that such a creature walks the earth."

"You've heard of her?"

"Yes."

"You know that she is a traitor to her own people?"

"I've heard it."

The Captain paused and looked straight at her with searching gaze.

"I just ran into Socola talking to this woman--"

"Is that all?"

"No."

"What else?"

"Yesterday I saw them pa.s.s each other on Main Street. Socola stooped and picked up something from the pavement--"

"Something she dropped?"

"I'm sure of it--"

"But you didn't see her drop it?"

"No--"

"How can you be so absurd!"

"You don't believe what I tell you?"

"But it proves nothing--"

"To me, it's as plain as day--"

"Because you hate him. I'm ashamed of you, d.i.c.k."

"Mark my words, I'll prove it before I'm through."

"I'll give you the chance now--that's his knock on the front door--"

"I'd rather not make my accusation to-day--"

"You've made it to me."

"You're a loyal Southern girl. I had the right to make it to you."