might be.

"Who had charge of the distribution of the regimental mail all winter
and spring?" asks the secret-service man, after looking over some
memoranda.

"The quartermaster, ordinarily. The mail-bag was carried to and from the
railway about thrice a week, while we were at Edward's Ferry in the
fall. Rix looked after it then, and when we came down in front of
Washington the matter still remained in his hands. There was never any
complaint, that I can remember."

"Did any of your officers besides Mr. Hollins have civilian dress or
disguise of any kind?"

"I did not know that he did--much less any of the others."

"He wore his uniform coming to the city, but would soon turn out in
'cits,' and in that way avoided all question from patrols. As he gambled
and drank a good deal then, we thought, perhaps, it was a rule in the
regiment that officers must not wear their uniforms when on a lark of
any kind; but he was always alone, and seemed to have no associates
among the officers. What use could he have had for false beard and wig?"

"None whatever that I know of."

"He bought them here, as we know, and, presumably, took them down to
camp with him. If he has deserted, he is probably masquerading in that
rig now. I tell you this knowing you will say nothing of it, Major
Abbot, and because I feel that you have had no idea of the real
character of this man, and it is time you had."

Abbot bows silently. If the detective only knew what was going on at
home, how much the more would he deem the missing quartermaster a
suspicious character.

Then there comes a knock at the door, and, opening it, Major Abbot finds
himself face to face with the nurse whom he had seen the previous
afternoon in Doctor Warren's room. She looks up into his face with a
smile that betokens a new and lively interest.

"The doctor left us but a few minutes ago," she says, "and he tells me
my patient is on the mend. Of course, we have said nothing to him as yet
about Miss Bessie's fainting yesterday, but--I thought you might be
anxious to know how they are."

"I am indeed," says Abbot, cordially, "and thank you for coming. How is
Miss Warren to-day?"

"She keeps her room, as is natural after one has been so agitated, and,
of course, she does not like to speak of the matter, and has forbidden
my telling the doctor--her father, I mean. But he will be sitting up
to-morrow, probably, and--I thought you might like to see them. He is
sleeping qui