wearing a
similar one, perhaps because it might give him some clue to the man's
identity. It contained only the photograph of a pretty girl, a tendril
of fair hair, and the word "Sally." In the breast-pocket was a sealed
letter with the inscription, "For Miss Sally Dows. To be delivered if I
fall by the mudsill's hand." A faint smile came over the officer's face;
he was about to hand the articles to a sergeant, but changed his mind
and put them in his pocket.

Meantime the lane and woods beyond, and even the slope itself, were
crowding with supports and waiting troops. His own battery was still
unlimbered, waiting orders. There was a slight commotion in the lane.

"Very well done, captain. Smartly taken and gallantly held."

It was the voice of a general officer passing with his staff. There was
a note of pleasant relief in its tone, and the middle-aged, care-drawn
face of its owner was relaxed in a paternal smile. The young captain
flushed with pleasure.

"And you seem to have had close work too," added the general, pointing
to the dead man.

The young officer hurriedly explained. The general nodded, saluted, and
passed on. But a youthful aide airily lingered.

"The old man's feeling good, Courtland," he said. "We've rolled 'em up
all along the line. It's all over now. In point of fact, I reckon you've
fired the last round in this particular fratricidal engagement."

The last round! Courtland remained silent, looking abstractedly at the
man it had crushed and broken at his feet.

"And I shouldn't wonder if you got your gold-leaf for to-day's work.
But who's your sunny Southern friend here?" he added, following his
companion's eyes.

Courtland repeated his story a little more seriously, which, however,
failed to subdue the young aide's levity. "So he concluded to stop
over," he interrupted cheerfully. "But," looking at the letter and
photograph, "I say--look here! 'Sally Dows?' Why, there was another man
picked up yesterday with a letter to the same girl! Doc Murphy has it.
And, by Jove! the same picture too!--eh? I say, Sally must have gathered
in the boys, and raked down the whole pile! Look here, Courty! you might
get Doc Murphy's letter and hunt her up when this cruel war is over. Say
you're 'fulfilling a sacred trust!' See? Good idea, old man! Ta-ta!" and
he trotted quickly after his superior.

Courtland remained with the letter and photograph in his hand, gazing
abstractedly after him. The smoke had ro