re quick glance at his window,
Abbot sees her turn and enter the house. Quickly she passes the doorway
and speeds along the hall. Regardless of the opinions and probable
remarks of the gossipers in the sitting-room, Major Abbot hastens to the
entrance and gazes after her until the graceful form is out of sight.
Then he turns and confronts the sauntering detective--

"I did not know you knew Miss Warren," he says.

"I don't," is the answer. "Neither do you, do you?"

"Well, we never met before yesterday, but--"

"You never wrote to her, did you, or to her father?"

"Never, and yet I think there is a matter connected with it all that
will require explanation."

"So do I. One of the worst points against the old gentleman is that very
bad break he made in claiming that you had been a constant correspondent
of his and of his daughter's."

"_One_ of the worst! Why, what is he accused of?"

"Being a rebel spy--not to put too fine a point upon it."

Abbot stands aghast a moment.

"Why, man, it's simply impossible! I tell you, you're all wrong."

"Wish you'd tell my chief that," answers the man, impassively. "I don't
like the thing a particle. They've got points up at the office that I
know nothing about, and, probably, have more yet, now; for the package
of papers was found upon him just as described from Frederick."

"What papers?"

"Don't know. They've taken them up to the office. That's what makes the
case rather weak in my eyes; no man would carry a packet of implicating
papers in the pocket of his overcoat all this time. Such a package was
handed to him as he left the tavern there by the landlord's wife, and
she got it from the rebel spy who escaped back across the Potomac the
next morning. He's the man your Colonel Putnam so nearly captured.
Doctor Warren broke down on the back trip, it seems, and was delirious
here for some days; but even then I should think he would hardly have
kept these papers in an overcoat pocket, unless they were totally
forgotten, and _that_ would look vastly like innocence of their
contents, which is what he claimed."

"Do you mean that he knows it? Has he been accused?" asks Abbot.

"Certainly. That's what I came down here for; he wanted his daughter. He
is perfectly rational and on the mend now, and as the physicians said he
would be able to travel in a day or two, it was decided best to nail
him. There are scores of people hereabouts who'll stand watching better
than this old