"I had my eye all the time on the paper he had laid carelessly down unt forgotten. I pulled my tapemeasure out. The old idee of the tailor come up. I forgot about the disappointed man with the rope by the tree, unt was my old self taking the measure of a customer. I put all the figures down on his piece of paper, without his noticing what I was using. I asked him about the lining, the trimming, unt the pockets, unt wrote them down. Then I folded up the paper unt stuck it in my breast pocket, unt my heart gave a big thump, though I kept my face straight, unt went on talking about buttons unt silk braid unt gold lace for the sleeves. I promised him he should have the uniform in the army in two weeks' time. Just then some officers come in, unt Jim Jones hurried me out. I could not understand Jim Jones. He hurried me across to a place behind the woods, where we found some horses. "'Untie that one unt get on quick,' he said. 'My God, you've got the thing dead to rights; you've got everything on that piece of paper. My God, what luck! Smartest thing I ever saw done. Get that paper in General Lyon's hands before midnight if you kill yourself unt horse in doing it. I'll take you out past part of the guards, unt show you how to avoid the rest. Then ride as if the devil was after you, until you reach General Lyon's tent.' "I was dumfounded. I looked at Jim Jones. His eyes was like fire. Then it suddenly occurred to me that Jim Jones was a spy, too. "As I mounted I looked back across the camp. I saw the rope still hanging from a limb of the tree,{37} and the disappointed man sitting down beside it patiently waiting. "That night the paper was in General Lyon's hands, unt the next night the army moved out to fight the battle of Wilson's Creek. "The Adjutant-General is still waiting for that uniform." "Halt, who comes there?" called out Shorty, whose quick ears caught the sound of approaching footsteps. "The Officer of the Guard," responded from the bank of darkness in the rear. "Advance, Officer of the Guard, and give the countersign," commanded Shorty, lowering his musket to a charge bayonets. The officer advanced, leaned over the bayonet's point, and whispered the countersign. "Countersign's correct," announced Shorty, bringing his gun to a present. "Good evening. Lieutenant. We have got a man here who claims to belong to the Secret Service." "Yes," answered the officer. "We've been expecting him all afternoon, but thought he was coming in on the other road. I'd have been around here long ago only for that. This is he, is it? Well, let's hurry in. They want you at Headquarters as soon as possible." "Good night, boys," called out Mr. Rosenbaum as he disappeared; "see you again soon." {38} CHAPTER III. THE DEACON GOES HOME SHORTY FALLS A VICTIM TO HIS GAMBLING PROPENSITIES. THE BOYS did not finish their tour of picket duty till the forenoon of the next day, and it was getting toward evening when they reached their own camp.