“Very well,” said Caroline, “it is understood. You don’t give it back to me, and you can’t give it back to him, so nobody’s disobeying any orders at all. And that’s the way it stands. I reckon I can stay as long as he can.” She stepped to a nearby chair and sat down. “I haven’t very much to do and probably he has.” “But, Miss Mitford——” began Foray. “There isn’t any good talking any longer. If you have got any telegraphing to do, you had better do it. I won’t disturb you. But don’t you give it to him.” Foray stared at her helplessly. What might have resulted, it is impossible to say, for there entered at that opportune moment, Mr. Arrelsford himself, relieving Mr. Foray of the further conduct of the intricate case. His glance took in all the occupants of the room. It was to his own messenger that he first addressed himself. “Eddinger!” “Yes, Mr. Arrelsford.” “Didn’t you get here in time!” “Yes, sir.” “Then why——” “I beg your pardon,” said Foray, “are you Mr. Arrelsford of the Secret Service Department?” “Yes. Are you holding back a despatch?” “Yes, sir.” “Why didn’t Eddinger bring it to me?” “Well, you see——” began Foray, hesitating, “Miss Mitford——” Arrelsford instantly comprehended. “Eddinger,” he said. “Yes, sir.” “Report back to Corporal Matson and tell him to send a surgeon to the prisoner who was wounded at General Varney’s house, if he isn’t dead by this time. Now let me see that despatch,” he continued, as the orderly saluted and ran rapidly from the room. But again Miss Mitford interposed. She stepped quickly between Arrelsford and Foray, both of whom fell back from her. “I expect,” she said impudently, “that you think you are going to get my telegram and read it?” “I certainly intend to do so,” was the curt answer. “Well, there’s a great disappointment looming up in front of you,” returned Caroline defiantly. “So!” said Arrelsford, with growing suspicion. “You have been trying to send out something that you don’t want us to see.” “What if I have, sir.” “Just this,” said Arrelsford determinedly. “You won’t send it out and I will see it. This is a case——” “This is a case where nobody is going to read my private writing,” persisted Caroline. The young girl confronted him with blazing eyes and a mien like a small fury. Arrelsford looked at her with ill-concealed yet somewhat vexatious amusement. “Lieutenant Foray, you have an order to give me that despatch. Bring it to me at once,” he said. Although it was quite evident that Foray greatly disliked the rôle he was compelled to play, his orders were plain, he had no option. He stepped slowly toward the Secret Service-Agent, only to be confronted by old Martha, who again interrupted. “Dat Leftenant kin stay jes whah he is,” said the old negress defiantly. A struggle with her would have been an unseemly spectacle indeed, thought both men. “Is that Miss Mitford’s despatch you have in your hand?” asked Arrelsford. “Yes, sir.”