des had all the curiosity and zest of boys as
they walked about the little city in the twilight, looking at everything
of interest, visiting the Capitol, and then coming back to the Exchange
Hotel, which sheltered for a night so many of their great men.

They stayed a while in the lobby of the hotel, which was packed so
densely that Harry could scarcely breathe. Most of the men were of the
tall, thin but extremely muscular type, either clean shaven or with
short beards trimmed closely, and no mustaches. Black was the
predominant color in clothing, and they talked with soft, drawling
voices. But their talk was sanguine. Most of them asked what the North
would do, but they believed that whatever she did do the South would go
on her way. The smoke from the pipes and cigars grew thicker, and Harry,
leaving his comrades in the crowd, walked out upon the portico.

The crisp, fresh air of the February night came like a heavenly tonic.
He remained there a little while, breathing it in, expanding his lungs,
and rejoicing. Then he walked over to the exact spot upon which
Jefferson Davis had stood, when he delivered his speech of acceptance.
He was so full of the scene that he shut his eyes and beheld it again.
He tried to imagine the feelings of a man at such a moment, knowing
himself the chosen of millions, and feeling that all eyes were upon him.
Truly it would be enough to make the dullest heart leap.

He opened his eyes, and although he stood in darkness on the portico,
he saw a dusky figure at the far edge of it, standing between two
pillars, and looking in at one of the windows. The man, whoever he was,
seemed to be intently watching those inside, and Harry saw at once that
it was not a look of mere curiosity. It was the gaze of one who wished
to understand as well as to know. He moved a little nearer. The figure
dropped lightly to the ground and moved swiftly away. Then he saw that
it was Shepard.

The boy's feelings toward Shepard had been friendly, but now he felt a
sudden rush of hostility. All that Colonel Talbot had hinted about him
was true. He was there, spying upon the Confederacy, seeking its inmost
secrets, in order that he might report them to its enemies. Harry was
armed. He and all his comrades carried new pistols at their belts,
and driven by impulse he, too, dropped from the portico and followed
Shepard.

He saw the dusky figure ahead of him still going swiftly, but with his
hand on the p