Coming to a corner of the thoroughfare, he paused for a minute, to avoid some soldiers who were marching past. As he lingered, he chanced to glance at a door upon which was a brass plate bearing the name: THEODORE FAILY “The very man father wants to hear from!” Louis murmured to himself. “Shall I venture to call on him, or had I better move on?” His first inclination was to go on, but then he remembered the letters from home, and how afraid his folks were that they might lose the farm. He advanced to the door and knocked sharply. In answer to his summons an aged negro appeared, and when the youth asked for Mr. Faily, ushered him into a dimly-lit parlor. A minute later Theodore Faily appeared. He did not know Louis and gazed inquiringly at the young soldier in his tattered uniform. “Excuse me, sir, but I am in great haste,” said Louis, speaking rapidly. “Will you tell me if you are the Theodore Faily who used to live in Pennsylvania and sold a farm to Mr. Rockford?” “I am the man, yes.” “I am an--an agent for Mr. Rockford, Mr. Faily. I have reached you under difficulties. Let me ask, do you know a man named Samuel Hammer?” “I do--to my sorrow.” “Did he have a claim on that farm?” “Not in the least. He once claimed to have, but his claim was worthless.” “He has been bothering Mr. Rockford a great deal lately,” continued the young soldier. “He wants three thousand dollars, or he is going to law--” “The rascal! But it is just like Sam Hammer. Mr. Rockford had better pay no attention to him.” “Can you give me some paper, showing the truth of this matter? I will manage to get it to Mr. Rockford by some means. I have risked a great deal to reach you.” Theodore Faily mused for a moment and gazed keenly at Louis. “This is--er--a rather unusual proceeding,” he observed. “But in these times many things are unusual. I think I understand you--since you must come from the North.” He closed one eye suggestively. “Yes, I will give you a paper, duly signed and witnessed. I hate Sam Hammer and would like nothing better than to put a spoke in his wheel.” The gentleman went out--to be gone over a quarter of an hour. When he came back he handed Louis an envelope. “There, take that. You will find it will stop Hammer, I reckon. And when you see Mr. Rockford, give him my best respects.” He leaned forward. “My sympathies are still at the North,” he whispered. “Thank you a thousand times, sir,” said Louis, as he slipped the document into an inner pocket. Then, after a few words more, he left the house. The sun was beginning to set when Louis found himself out of the city. He had been stopped twice, but his answers in each instance had enabled him to proceed without molestation. One man gave him minute directions as to where he could find “his company,” and for this Louis thanked him profusely, inwardly shivering for fear the fellow might chance to know some of the North Carolinians and ask after them.