anything." I felt greatly complimented, and was then taken back to the horrors of the old dungeon, where I was warmly welcomed by my comrades, most of whom had passed a similar though briefer ordeal. It was on this occasion that the officer of the guard happened to lay a newspaper he was reading near me. I was hungry for news, and in a moment seized and concealed it in my clothing. It was missed and a great search made, but as I was handcuffed and looked innocent, suspicion did not fall on me. It was a great prize, for it contained a complete account of our chase as given by our pursuers. Through all our subsequent adventures I carefully preserved it, and at the date of writing it is still in my possession. The estimate it gives of the military importance of our expedition, and of what we actually accomplished, goes beyond what has been sketched in the preceding pages. (See Appendix No. II.) After these examinations were over, the misery of our dungeon-life closed about us again. Whether we would be left there to perish, or whether some kind of a trial would be given us with the alternatives of release or execution,--what was the position of the armies outside, or the progress of the war,--we could not tell. In dreams only we were free. I remember lying down one afternoon and dreaming of the most beautiful snow-capped mountains in East Tennessee, and awakening with a freshness and hopefulness which lasted for many hours. But even dreams were not all thus pleasant; too often they rivalled the prison itself in shapes of terror and pain. One or two of our number managed to conceal a little money when searched, and, as our rations were very small, it was resolved to spend it for food. The jailer agreed to get us any provisions we wanted, so far as the money would go. There was an anxious discussion as to the most profitable mode of investment. Wheat bread and molasses--the latter being very cheap--were chosen, and the precious money tied to the rope, which was our only mode of communication with the upper world, and drawn up. It was at our evening meal. We knew Swims would not trouble himself to bring the provisions that evening, but we anticipated a bountiful breakfast, with the keenness that only starving men could feel. When the breakfast bucket dangled at the end of the rope the next morning, it was quickly seized, and lo! only the usual miserly allowance of "pone" and meat. "Mr. Swims, have you got the bread and molasses yet?" eagerly demanded a voice from below. In his most whining tones he drawled out, "B-o-y-s, I lost that money." Had he been on our level instead of thirteen feet above, he might have learned how desperate men can become when hungry. But there was no remedy. The captain of the guard, when appealed to, considered it a good joke! CHAPTER XI. LIGHTS AND SHADOWS OF PRISON.