conspirator, an assassin!" he cried, with a laugh. "Why,
he wouldn't kill a flea without apologising to it. And as for plots and
dark secrets, he never had a secret in his life and couldn't keep one if
he had it. My mother keeps all the family secrets. Crime couldn't stick to
him any more than dirty water to a duck's back!"

"But we must secure his release on parole, that he may defend himself."

"Of course. But we won't cross any bridges till we come to them. I never
saw things so bad they couldn't be worse. Just think what I've been
through. The war's over. Don't worry."

He looked at her tenderly.

"Get that banjo and play 'Get out of the Wilderness!'"

His spirit was contagious and his good humour resistless. Elsie spent the
days of his convalescence in an unconscious glow of pleasure in his
companionship. His handsome boyish face, his bearing, his whole
personality, invited frankness and intimacy. It was a divine gift, this
magnetism, the subtle meeting of quick intelligence, tact, and sympathy.
His voice was tender and penetrating, with soft caresses in its tones. His
vision of life was large and generous, with a splendid carelessness about
little things that didn't count. Each day Elsie saw new and striking
traits of his character which drew her.

"What will we do if Stanton arrests you one of these fine days?" she asked
him one day.

"Afraid they'll nab me for something?" he exclaimed. "Well, that is a
joke. Don't you worry. The Yankees know who to fool with. I licked 'em too
many times for them to bother me any more."

"I was under the impression that you got licked," Elsie observed.

"Don't you believe it. We wore ourselves out whipping the other fellows."

Elsie smiled, took up the banjo, and asked him to sing while she played.

She had no idea that he could sing, yet to her surprise he sang his camp
songs boldly, tenderly, and with deep, expressive feeling.

As the girl listened, the memory of the horrible hours of suspense she had
spent with his mother when his unconscious life hung on a thread came
trooping back into her heart and a tear dimmed her eyes.

And he began to look at her with a new wonder and joy slowly growing in
his soul.

CHAPTER IV

HIDDEN TREASURE

Ben had spent a month of vain effort to secure his father's release. He
had succeeded in obtaining for him a removal to more comfortable quarters,
books to read, and the privilege of a daily walk under guard and parole.