"He professed to be a farm hand; said his employer had a mountain farm not far away, where he pastured cattle; that a two-year-old steer had strayed away, and he was looking for him. His clothes were fearfully torn by brush and briars. His hands and face were scratched by thorns. He had taken off his boots to relieve his swollen feet, and was carrying them in his hands. Imitating the language and manners of an uneducated West Virginian, he asked the sentinel if he 'had seed anything of a red steer.' The sentinel had not. After continuing the conversation for a time he finally said: 'Well, I must be a-going, it is a-gettin' late and I'm durned feared I won't get back to the farm afore night. Good-day.' 'Hold on,' said the sentinel; 'better go and see the Captain.' 'O, no, don't want to trouble him, it is not likely he has seed the steer, and it's a-gettin' late.' 'Come right along,' replied the sentinel, bringing down his gun; 'the Captain will not mind being troubled; in fact, I am instructed to take such as you to him.'"( 5) The boots were discovered by the keen instinct of the inquiring Yankee to be too neatly made and elegant for a Western Virginian mountaineer employed at twelve dollars a month in caring for cattle in the hackings. When asked the price paid for the boots, the answer was fifteen dollars. The suspect was a highly educated gentleman, wholly incapable of acting his assumed character. He had touched the higher education and civilization of men of learning, and his tongue could not be attuned to lie and deceive in the guise of one to the manor born. Though at first Captain Cunard hesitated, he told the gentleman he would take him for further examination to camp. Finding the Captain, in his almost timid native modesty, was nevertheless obdurate, the now prisoner, knowing hope of escape was gone, declared himself to be Captain Julius A. De Lagnel, late commander of the Confederates in the battle of Rich Mountain, where he was reported killed. His tell-tale boots were made in Washington. He was severely wounded July 11th, and had succeeded in reaching a friendly secluded house near the battle-field, where he remained and was cared for until his wound healed and he was able to travel. He had been in the mountains five days and four nights, and just as he was passing the last and most advanced Union picket he was taken.