e case more than
ever now, but the windows give no sign. Some are lighted, and occasional
shadows flit across them, but none that are familiar. Suddenly he hears
a sound that brings him back to himself--the tramp of marching feet, and
the sudden clash of arms as they halt; a patrol from the
provost-marshal's guard comes quickly around a corner from the soft dust
of a side street, and the non-commissioned officers are sharply halting
all neighboring men in uniform, and examining their passes. Several
parties in army overcoats shuffle uneasily up the street, only to fall
into the clutches of a companion patrol that pops up as suddenly around
the next corner beyond. "Rounding up the stragglers," thinks the
colonel, with a quiet smile of approval, and, like the soldier he is, he
finds time to look on a moment and watch the manner in which the work is
done. The patrol seems to have possessed itself of both sides of the
street at the same instant, and "spotted" every man in blue. These are
bidden to stand until their papers are examined by the brace of young
officers who appear upon the scene, belted and sashed, and bearing small
lanterns. Nor are uniforms alone subject to scrutiny. Ever since Second
Bull-Run there has been much straggling in the army, and not a little
desertion; and though a fortnight has passed since Antietam was fought,
the provost-marshal's men have not yet finished scouring the country,
and a sharp lookout is kept for deserters. Those civilians who can
readily establish their identity as old residents of the town have no
trouble. Occasionally a man is encountered whom nobody seems to know,
and, despite their protestations, two of those characters have been
gathered in by the patrol, and are now on their way to the office. The
colonel hears their mingled complaint and blasphemy as they are marched
past him by a file of the guard, and then turns to the nearest of the
officers--

"Lieutenant, did you note the man who ran back from where that cab is
standing?"

The officer of the patrol looks quickly up from the "pass" he is
examining by the light of his lantern, and at sight of Colonel Putnam
his hand goes up to the visor of his cap.

"No, colonel; was there one? Which way did he go?"

"Straight back to the shadow of the porch; just a minute ago. What
attracted my attention to him was the fact that he was deep in talk with
the driver when your men rounded the corner, and did not seem to see or
hear the