"It is odd you are conducting him over the road on foot in this
fashion."

"I would like to put in a word of explanation, Major Collins,"
interrupted Deck, who had listened closely to what was said.

"What is it you wish to say?"

"I would like to be placed under a regular guard of two or three men."

"For what reason?"

Major Lyon looked at Captain Brentford, who grew first red and then
white. He felt his position was a delicate one. An exposure of the spy's
treatment of him might only cause him more trouble. Fortunately Captain
Brentford came to the rescue himself.

"I would be only too glad to turn the fellow over to you, Major Collins.
He has caused me a great deal of trouble."

"And I do not deem that he has treated me as a prisoner should be
treated," added Deck. "But I am willing to let the matter
rest,--providing I can have another escort to the prisoners' camp."

Major Collins looked first at Deck and then at the spy.

"Has this man threatened you?" he demanded of the young Union officer.

"He was very anxious to get information out of me."

"I repeat, did he threaten you, Major?"

"He told me that I must tell him certain things or take the
consequences, and he had his pistol in his hand while he spoke."

"And you were as helpless as you are now?"

"I was."

"It is a falsehood!" burst from Captain Brentford's lips. "He wanted to
buy me off--offered me a thousand dollars if I would help him to get
back over the river."

"I stand by what I said," went on Deck, his face flushing. "I haven't a
thousand cents to offer any one."

Major Collins looked from one to the other. Had he and the spy been
friendly he might have sided with the man, but as there was no love lost
between them, he was inclined to favor Deck. Moreover, he was a fellow
who could read character pretty thoroughly, and the young Union
officer's open face appealed strongly to him.

"I will take charge of the prisoner, Captain Brentford," he said
quietly. "Surely if all is right, you will be glad to get him off your
hands."

"I am glad to be free of him," growled the spy, but his looks belied his
words.

"I will detail three of my men to conduct him to General Breckinridge's
camp," went on the Confederate major.

"I will go along."

"That will not be necessary."

"All right,--please yourself. I presume I can turn him over to you
immediately."

"On the spot," was the quiet answer; and saluting stiffly, Captain
Brentford,