order:

"Come; I am waiting; give me the despatch," and, as the trooper still
hesitated, "we are agents of the United States Secret Service."

"In that case, sir." The trooper's right hand went to the salute; then
he unbuttoned his coat, and fumbled in his belt. "Here it is, sir."

As Lloyd bent forward to take the expected paper, he received instead a
crashing blow on the temple from the butt end of a revolver, which sent
him reeling from the saddle. At the same time, Symonds, who had hold of
the trooper's bridle, was lifted off his feet by the sudden rearing of
the horse, and before he had collected his wits, he was dashed
violently to one side and thrown on the icy ground.

Symonds staggered to his feet, but at that instant the trooper, who was
some distance away, swerved suddenly toward the woods, and his broad
cavalry hat was jerked from his head by a low-hanging branch. His horse
then bolted into the middle of the road, and for a second the trooper's
figure was silhouetted against the sky in the brilliant moonlight. A
mass of heavy hair had fallen down the rider's back.

"By God! It's a woman!" gasped Symonds, as he clutched his revolver.

A shot rang out, followed by a stifled cry; then silence, save for the
galloping hoof beats growing fainter and fainter down the road in the
direction of Washington.

CHAPTER II

BRAINS VS. BRAWN

Up Thirteenth Street came the measured tread of marching feet, and two
companies of infantry turned the corner into New York Avenue. The
soldiers marched with guns reversed and colors furled. A few passers-by
stopped to watch the sad procession. Suddenly they were startled by
peal on peal of merry laughter, which came from a bevy of girls
standing in front of Stuntz's notion store. Instantly two officers left
their places by the curb and walked over to the little group.

"Your pardon, ladies," said Lloyd sternly. "Why do you laugh at a
soldier's funeral?"

The young girl nearest him wheeled around, and inspected Lloyd from
head to foot.

"What's that to you, Mr. Yank?" she demanded impudently.

"Nothing to me, madam; but for you, perhaps, Old Capitol Prison."

"Nonsense, Lloyd," exclaimed his companion, Major Goddard. "I am sure
the young ladies meant no intentional offense."

Lloyd's lips closed in a thin line, but before he could reply a girl
standing in the background stepped forward and addressed him.

"We meant no disrespect to the dead," she said, and h