casually.

"Not that I ever heard of, sir. There aren't many houses on this
road. My friend, Miss Williams, lives in the house up yonder."

At the implied introduction Prescott raised his campaign hat,
then rode on.

The instant that Mock's name had been mentioned it had flashed
through Dick's mind that, when in Greg's office that afternoon,
he had seen Mock's name on Top Sergeant Lund's list of men for
pass, and Greg, he knew, had drawn a pen line through that name.

"Of course it may not have been Mock that Lawrence saw; Lawrence
himself wasn't sure," Dick reflected. "Yet, if Mock is out of
camp to-night he is out without leave. Private Lawrence didn't
realize that, or he wouldn't tell tales."

Soon the horse began to move along an up grade road between
two lines of trees. Finding that the animal, instead of drying
off, was sweating more freely, Dick drew rein and dismounted.

"It's hard work on a hot night, so you and I will walk together
for a while, old pal," Dick confided to the borrowed mount. "There,
you find it easier, don't you?"

As if to express gratitude the horse bent its head forward, rubbing
against Dick's shoulder.

"Who says horses can't talk plainly, hey, old fellow?" Dick demanded.
On together they walked, until Prescott felt himself perspiring,
while the horse's coat grew dry.

"There, now, friend," said Dick, running a hand over the creature's
flanks, "you're cool and dry, and this is one of the prettiest
spots in Georgia, so I reckon I'll tie you and rest until I, too,
am dry again."

Having tied the horse by the bridle reins, Dick strolled about,
enjoying the dark and quiet after the bright electric lights and
the bustle of camp. Presently he strolled down the road until
he came to a break in the trees on his right. Though the moon
had gone partly behind a cloud Dick found himself gazing down
a clearing. He would not have been interested, had it not been
that he caught sight of the unmistakable silhouette of a soldier,
and, beside him, a somewhat stoop-shouldered man in darker garb.

"Why, I wonder if that can be Mock, and his carpenter?" reflected
Prescott, recalling the note that had dropped so mysteriously
into his extended palm.

Screened behind a bush Dick watched the pair until he saw them
coming toward the road. Then Prescott drew back, finding better
shelter, but he did not seek complete concealment. It occurred
to him to wait there, in silence, and see if Pri