he
slam of a door interrupted him--Chad was gone.

Harry was holding Dixie's bridle when he reached the street and Chad
swung into the saddle.

"Don't tell them at home," he said. "I'll be back here on time, or I'll
be dead."

The two grasped hands. Harry nodded dumbly and Dixie's feet beat the
rhythm of her matchless gallop down the quiet street. The sensitive
little mare seemed to catch at once the spirit of her rider. Her
haunches quivered. She tossed her head and champed her bit, but not a
pound did she pull as she settled into an easy lope that told how well
she knew that the ride before her was long and hard. Out they went past
the old cemetery, past the shaft to Clay rising from it, silvered with
moonlight, out where the picket fires gleamed and converging on toward
the Capital, unchallenged for the moon showed the blue of Chad's
uniform and his face gave sign that no trivial business, that night,
was his. Over quiet fields and into the aisles of sleeping woods beat
that musical rhythm ceaselessly, awakening drowsy birds by the wayside,
making bridges thunder, beating on and on up hill and down until picket
fires shone on the hills that guard the Capital. Through them, with but
one challenge, Chad went, down the big hill, past the Armory, and into
the town--pulling panting Dixie up before a wondering sentinel who
guarded the Commandant's sleeping quarters.

"The Commandant is asleep."

"Wake him up," said Chad, sharply. A staff-officer appeared at the door
in answer to the sentinel's knock.

"What is your business?"

"A message from General Ward."

"The Commandant gave orders that he was not to be disturbed."

"He must be," said Chad. "It is a matter of life and death."

Above him a window was suddenly raised and the Commandant's own head
was thrust out.

"Stop that noise," he thundered. Chad told his mission and the
Commandant straightway was furious.

"How dare General Ward broach that matter again? My orders are given
and they will not be changed." As he started to pull the window down,
Chad cried:

"But, General--" and at the same time a voice called down the street:

"General!" Two men appeared under the gaslight--one was a sergeant and
the other a frightened negro.

"Here is a message, General."

The sash went down, a light appeared behind it, and soon the
Commandant, in trousers and slippers, was at the door. He read the note
with a frown.

"Where did you get this?"

"A sojer come