“That’s an odd thing, Captain,” began Lieutenant Foray dubiously. “I understood that the President was meeting with the Cabinet. In fact, Lieutenant Allison went over there to take some code work a moment ago. He must have gone home, I reckon.” “Looks like it,” said Thorne quietly. “If he is not at home you had better wait.” “Yes,” said Foray, moving away, “I suppose I had better wait for him. You will have to look out for Allison’s wire though on the other table. He was called over to the Department.” “Oh, Allison!” said Thorne carelessly. “Be gone long, do you think?” he continued as he seated himself at the table and began to arrange the papers. “Well, you know how it is. They generally whip around quite a while before they make up their minds what they want to do. I don’t suppose they will trouble you much. It’s as quiet as a church down the river. Good-night.” “See here, Mr. Foray, wait a moment. You had better not walk out and leave—no matter,” continued Thorne, as the operator stopped and turned back. “It’s none of my business, still if you want some good advice, that is a dangerous thing to do.” “What is it, Captain?” asked Foray, somewhat surprised. “Leave a cigar lying around an office like that. Somebody might walk in any minute and take it away. I can’t watch your cigars all day.” He picked up the cigar, and before Foray could prevent it, lighted it and began to smoke. Foray laughed. “Help yourself, Captain, and if there is any trouble you will find a revolver on the table.” “I see,” said Thorne, “but what makes you think there is going to be trouble?” “Oh, well there might be.” “Been having a bad dream?” asked the Captain nonchalantly. “No, but you never can tell. All sorts of things are liable to happen in an office like this, and——.” “That’s right,” said Thorne, puffing away at his cigar, “you never can tell. But see here. If you never can tell when you are going to have trouble you had better take that gun along with you. I have one of my own.” “Well,” said the operator, “if you have one of your own, I might as well.” He took the revolver up and tucked it in his belt. “Look out for yourself, Captain. Good-bye. I will be back as soon as the President gives me that despatch. That despatch I have just finished is for the Commissary General’s Office, but it can wait until the morning.” “All right,” said Thorne, and the next moment the operator turned away while the clicking of the key called Thorne to the table. It took him but a few minutes to write the brief message which he addressed and turned to the first messenger, “Quartermaster General.” “He wasn’t in his office a short time ago, sir,” said the messenger. “Very well, find him. He has probably gone home and he has to have this message.” “Very good, sir.” The key kept up its clicking. In a short time another message was written off.