his
own knife. It was a mere guess that he was a dispatch bearer, but he
had located the dispatch, because at the mention of the word "message"
the man's hand had involuntarily gone to his left breast to see if the
dispatch were still there. Boots with little dirt on them indicated that
he had been riding.

"A mind reader!" said Haskell, with suspicion. "What business has a mind
reader in this war?"

"He could be of enormous value. If he were a real mind reader he could
tell his general exactly what the opposing general intended to do.
I'm employed at a gigantic salary for that particular purpose."

"I guess you're trying to be funny. Why do you carry both a rifle and a
shotgun?"

"In order to hit the target with one, if the other misses. I always use
the rifle first, because if the bullet doesn't get home the shotgun,
spreading its charge over a much wider area, is likely to do something."

"Now I know you're trying to be funny. As I'm going about my business as
fast as I can, I'll leave you here."

"I like you so well that I can't bear to see you go. Don't move.
My rifle covers your heart exactly and you are not more than ten feet
away. I shall have no possible need of the shotgun. Keep your hands
away from your belt. You're in a dangerous position, Mr. Haskell."

"I believe you're an infernal rebel."

"Take out the objectionable adjective 'infernal' and you're right.
Keep those hands still, I tell you."

"What do you want?"

"Your dispatches! Oh, I must have 'em. Unbutton your coat and waistcoat
and hand 'em to me at once. I hate to take human life, but war demands a
terrible service, and I mean what I say!"

His voice rang with determination. The man slowly unbuttoned his
waistcoat and took out a folded dispatch.

"Put it on the ground in front of you. That's right, and don't you reach
for it again. Now, lay your canteen beside it!"

"What in thunder do you want with my canteen? It's empty!"

"I can fill it again. This is a well watered country. That's right;
put it beside the dispatch. Now you walk about one hundred yards to the
right with your back to me. If you look around at all I fire, and I'm
a good marksman. Stand there ten minutes, and then you can move on!
That's right! Now march!"

The man walked away slowly and when he had gone about half the distance
Harry, picking up the dispatch, took flight again across the fields.
Climbing a fence, he looked back and saw th