The conclusion guessed at was that Scoville had been rescued by his own men, who were known to be daring scouts. In the darkness and confusion after the battle, it was thought they had mingled with the Confederates, learned the situation of their leader and the general appearance of Whately with his disabled arm. Arrayed in the Southern uniform, of which scouts always had a supply, and favored by the sleepy condition of the guard, one of the scouts had played the trick which Whately rued so bitterly. Others, on the watch, had struck down Perkins and carried Scoville off in safety. No other theory they could hit upon explained so well what was known. The tricked sergeant was placed under arrest, and Whately, who had gone to sleep with such high and mighty notions of his prowess and friendly league with fate, found himself in partial disgrace and in the depths of mortification. He kept guard over his prisoners in person the remainder of the night and again had opportunity to repent at leisure. He mentally cursed himself as a fool, for now he remembered his mother's words. If he had shown leniency to Scoville, and brought him into the house, he might have kept the prisoner and won the goodwill of his cousin. Now, she would probably hear the humiliating facts and be less inclined either to fear or favor him. It was well that no suspicion on his part or that of others had fallen on her, for she was not one who could face coolly a severe cross-questioning. Perkins skulked off to his house, assuaged his aching head with cold water and his wounded spirit with whiskey. As he tried to think the matter over a vague suspicion of the truth began to enter his confused brain. The little slipper with which he had been hit over the eyes in the morning now became a broad hint. He knew well, however, that it would be dangerous to make any charges, or even suggestions, unless he had ample proof.