onel Winchester sighed.

"An invader is always feared and hated," he said.

"But we do come as enemies," said Dick, "and this feeling toward us
can't be helped."

"That's true. No matter what we do we'll never make any friends here in
one of the Gulf states, the very core of Southern feeling. Dick, take
a squad of men and enter the house. Pennington, you and Warner go with
him."

Dick sprang down instantly, chose Sergeant Whitley first and with the
others entered the great portico. The front door was locked but it
was easy enough to force it with a gun butt, and they went in, but
not before Dick had noticed over the door in large letters the name,
"Bellevue." So this was Bellevue, one of the great cotton plantations of
Mississippi. He now vaguely remembered that he had once heard his uncle,
Colonel Kenton, speak of having stopped a week here. But he could not
recall the name of the owner. Strong for the Union as he was Dick was
glad that the family had gone before the Northern cavalry came.

The house was on a splendid scale inside also, but all the rugs and
curtains were gone. As they entered the great parlor Dick saw a large
piece of paper, and he flushed as he read written upon it in tall
letters:

TO THE YANKEE RAIDERS:
YOU NEED NOT LOOK FOR THE SILVER.
IT HAS BEEN TAKEN TO VICKSBURG.

"Look at that!" he said indignantly to Warner. "See how they taunt us!"

But Warner laughed.

"Maybe some of our men at New Orleans have laid us open to such a stab,"
he said. Then he added whimsically:

"We'll go to Vicksburg with Grant, Dick, and get that silver yet."

"The writing's fresh," said Sergeant Whitley, who also looked at the
notification. "The paper hasn't begun to twist and curl yet. It's not
been posted up there many hours."

Colonel Winchester entered at that moment and the notice was handed to
him. He, too, flushed a little when he read it, but the next instant he
laughed. Dick then called his attention to the apparent fact that it had
been put there recently.

"May I speak a word, Colonel," said Warner, who had been thinking so
hard that there was a line the full length of his forehead.

"Yes, George, a dozen if you like. Go ahead. What is it?"

"The sergeant, who has had much experience as a trailer, told us that
the tracks made by the buggy wheels were several days old. The slaves
probably had been sent southward before that time. Now some one who
saw our advance has come