rescott and regarded him attentively for a moment or
two. Then he said:

"You look like a good fellow, and we're about the same size. Now, I
haven't a hundred dollars in gold, and I doubt whether you have. Suppose
we buy this uniform together, and take turns in wearing it."

Prescott laughed, but he saw that the proposition was made in entire
good faith, and he liked the face of the man whom the auctioneer had
called Talbot.

"I won't do that," he replied, "because I have more money than you
think. I'll buy this and I'll lend you enough to help you in buying
another."

Friendships are quickly formed in war time, and the offer was accepted
at once. The uniforms were purchased and the two young men strolled on
together, each carrying a precious burden under his arm.

"My name is Talbot, Thomas Talbot," said the stranger. "I'm a lieutenant
and I've had more than two years' service in the West. I was in that
charge at Chickamauga when General Cheatham, leading us on, shouted:
'Boys, give 'em hell'; and General Polk, who had been a bishop and
couldn't swear, looked at us and said: 'Boys, do as General Cheatham
says!' Well, I got a bad wound in the shoulder there, and I've been
invalided since in Richmond, but I'm soon going to join the Army of
Northern Virginia."

Talbot talked on and Prescott found him entertaining, as he was a man
who saw the humourous side of things, and his speech, being spontaneous,
was interesting.

The day grew darker and colder. Heavy clouds shut out the sun and the
rain began to fall. The people fled from the streets, and the two
officers shivered in their uniforms. The wind rose and whipped the rain
into their faces. Its touch was like ice.

"Come in here and wait till the storm passes," said Talbot, taking his
new friend by the arm and pulling him through an open door. Prescott now
heard more distinctly than ever the light click of ivory chips, mingled
with the sound of many voices in a high or low key, and the soft
movement of feet on thick carpets. Without taking much thought, he
followed his new friend down a short and narrow hall, at the end of
which they entered a large, luxurious room, well lighted and filled with
people.

"Yes, it's a gambling room--The Nonpareil--and there are plenty more
like it in Richmond, I can tell you," said Talbot. "Those who follow war
must have various kinds of excitement. Besides, nothing is so bad that
it does not have its redeeming point, and these