th tears, and a sob broke from Margaret.

"There is no one else," she said, and Chad bowed. "In the house," she
added, proudly, scorning the subterfuge.

"Search the barn," said Chad, "quick!" The Sergeant ran down the steps.

"I reckon you are a little too late, my friend," said Dan. "Why, bless
me, it's my old friend Chad--and a lieutenant! I congratulate you," he
added, but he did not offer to shake hands.

Chad had thought of the barn too late. Snowball had seen the men
creeping through the yard, had warned Jerry Dillon, and Jerry had
slipped the horses into the woodland, and had crept back to learn what
was going on.

"I will wait for you out here," said Chad. "Take your time."

"Thank you," said Dan.

He came out in a moment and Mrs. Dean and Margaret followed him. At a
gesture from the Sergeant, a soldier stationed himself on each side of
Dan, and, as Chad turned, he took off his cap again. His face was very
pale and his voice almost broke:

"You will believe, Mrs. Dean," he said, "that this was something I HAD
to do."

Mrs. Dean bent her head slightly.

"Certainly, mother," said Dan. "Don't blame Lieutenant Chad. Morgan
will have Lexington in a few days and then I'll be free again. Maybe
I'll have Lieutenant Chad a prisoner--no telling!"

Chad smiled faintly, and then, with a flush, he spoke again--warning
Mrs. Dean, in the kindliest way, that, henceforth, her house would be
under suspicion, and telling her of the severe measures that had been
inaugurated against rebel sympathizers.

"Such sympathizers have to take oath of allegiance and give bonds to
keep it."

"If they don't?"

"Arrest and imprisonment."

"And if they give the oath and violate it?"

"The penalty is death, Mrs. Dean."

"And if they aid their friends?"

"They are to be dealt with according to military law."

"Anything else?"

"If loyal citizens are hurt or damaged by guerrillas, disloyal citizens
of the locality must make compensation."

"Is it true that a Confederate sympathizer will be shot down if on the
streets of Lexington?"

"There was such an order, Mrs. Dean."

"And if a loyal citizen is killed by one of these so-called guerillas,
for whose acts nobody is responsible, prisoners of war are to be shot
in retaliation?"

"Mother!" cried Margaret.

"No, Mrs. Dean--not prisoners of war--guerillas."

"And when will you begin war on women?"

"Never, I hope." His hesitancy brought a scorn into the searching ey