The sky was overcast with a thin lining of clouds, so that it was quite dark in the deeper forests. In a couple of hours the moon would rise to dispel somewhat the gloom. As silently as so many shadows the little party threaded the dim aisle of the valley lying on the west of the town. Not a word was spoken and nothing was heard to alarm them, until at last they stood at the edge of a clearing of several acres in extent. Lieutenant Boggs motioning a halt, they paused under the shadows of the trees. “I have an idea the Yanks are off to the right,” he said, speaking for the first time. “More’n likely,” assented one of the others. Cavalry Curt started at the sound of the last speaker’s voice. He was too well schooled in his self-possession, however, to betray any surprise, though he improved the first opportunity to get a good, square look at the man. He had recognized the tone as that of one whom he had at one time known. The countenance was that of the person. He had at one time belonged to Kearney’s cavalry, but had disappeared very suddenly and was supposed to have been killed. Curt’s most natural conclusion was that he was acting a part as well as himself. Though altered in appearance since their last meeting he felt certain the other would recognize him as soon as he should get a fair view of his face. Always careful to be on the safe side the spy resolved not to discover his identity to the other, but to maintain a careful watch over himself. He could not help feeling that the man had deserted the Union cause. In that case his own position was a critical one. “Don’t believe but we had better go round the clearing,” declared Lieutenant Boggs. “I kalkilate we have got to look mighty sharp, for we are likely to run on the Yanks at any step. Foller me.” With this terse command he led the way through the forest, the others following closely upon his heels in Indian fashion. They had gone perhaps a quarter of a mile in this way, when Lieutenant Boggs paused abruptly. Bending his head forward in a listening attitude, after a minute’s anxious wait, he said: “I though I heard some step. But I must have been mistaken. Isn’t that a building over yonder on the swell?” “I should say so,” replied one of his companions. “I have a mind to go up there.” “My eye has been on that pine tree for some time. What a view one could get from its top! Let’s go up a little nearer anyway.” They soon came in plain sight of a large, old-fashioned farm-house with outbuildings adjoining, the whole looking deserted and sadly out of repair. The buildings stood on the crest of quite an eminence of land. On one side reaching nearly down to the woods where they were concealed extended a line of dense shrubbery. A short distance from the house, its dark, gigantic branches overhanging the roof was a huge pine towering far above any other tree in the vicinity.