Val nodded, but he hoped there would not be need of a pistol. It would be useful, in overpowering his prisoner, but he hoped fervently he would not have to shoot. It would be bad enough without that. “If they are at the place I saw her last time, we can come up behind them and they’ll never know till we appear,” April went on. “I nearly ran them down yesterday.” They went on, keeping just out of sight and taking the precaution to reconnoiter when they turned corners. Once or twice they had a glimpse of Dorothea, flitting steadily ahead with never a glance back of her. It seemed as if she was perfectly certain that no one knew her errand, and she walked quickly as if she longed to be at the rendezvous. [Illustration: Young Stanchfield struggled to sit up.] April and Tracy followed in silence. They did not have much to say, both being busy with their own thoughts. And at last they approached the spot where April had guessed the meeting was to take place. There was a steep hill with a sharp turn at the top, and they began the ascent as noiselessly as possible, stepping cautiously from spot to spot and being careful not to disturb any loose stones. “I don’t want to have to shoot the fellow,” Val whispered in April’s ear. “He may give us useful information and—and anyway, I’d rather not have any bloodshed if we can help it.” To this April made no reply, but after they had gone a few yards further she laid a hand on his arm. “Listen,” she said, under her breath. They stopped and in a moment the sound of voices reached them. First a man’s and then the low voice of a girl, which they guessed to be Dorothea’s, although only a murmur was audible. “They have met,” April whispered, her eyes ablaze with excitement. “Come on.” She tugged at Val’s sleeve to urge him forward. “Take your time,” he cautioned. “Faith, I’ve seen many a bird missed by shooting too quick.” Cautiously they went forward till they came to the corner of the path and again paused. Once around the bend there would be no time for reconsideration. The action would be immediate. Tracy’s heart grew heavier as the moment approached when he would be forced to face Dorothea in the guise of an enemy. The voices were now more audible and he caught the words “good-by.” There was no time to lose. “Come on.” It was he who urged now, pulling his pistol from its holster, and with a rush the two broke from their hiding-place into the open. Facing them stood Dorothea, her eyes wide with apprehension and surprise; but both Tracy and April were staring at the back of a man in the hated Yankee uniform, and for an instant there was a complete silence. Then Tracy, leveling his pistol at the man’s back, spoke sternly. “Throw up your hands! You are my prisoner, and if you move I’ll shoot you without mercy.” Dorothea, aghast, turned her eyes upon the man before her, and he, startled out of all reason, did not see that she was as much amazed at this development as he.