Mark was now excused, but told to wait for Spencer. General Frost had taken him aside and they were engaged in earnest conversation. Every now and then they would glance at Mark, and he was sure they were talking about him. If he had heard what they were saying he would have known he was under suspicion. "It can't be he," Frost was saying, "but every now and then there is something about him that makes me think of him. I hardly know what; certain motions, I think." "I knew him well," answered Spencer, "and so far I have not seen anything that would make me think Grafton was he. I am to ride with him nearly a day's journey, and if I see anything suspicious--well you know what will happen." All being ready the two rode away together. They had not gone far when Mark noticed that Spencer was watching every move he made. Instantly every nerve of Mark's body became alert, but to all appearances he was totally unsuspicious. To Spencer's request that he tell him something of his life, he responded that he did not have much to tell. He had been a member of a guerrilla band, was wounded and had found his way into the Ozarks, where he had been with Mr. Chittenden, who took him in when he was suffering with the fever. He had acted as courier for Colonel Clay, but had never met with many exciting adventures. "Now, Spencer," he said, "tell me something of yourself, for I know you have faced a hundred dangers where I have faced one." Spencer refused to be interviewed, and maintained a rather moody silence. At length they reached where they were to part and when they shook hands Spencer, as if by accident, drew the sleeve of his coat across Mark's face and his mustache came off. "Damn you! I know you now," shrieked Spencer as he reached for his revolver, but quick as a flash Mark snatched a revolver from his bosom and fired. Spencer's revolver went off half raised. He sank down in the saddle, then rolled from his horse, a motionless body. Mark was about to dismount to see if he was dead when he was startled by the pounding of horses' hoofs and looking up saw a squad of Federal cavalry bearing down on him. Putting spurs to his horse and bending low over his neck he escaped amid a shower of bullets. The only mark of the conflict that Mark could find was a bullet which had lodged in the back of his saddle. After riding several miles, Mark met half a dozen guerrillas who said they were on their way to join Hindman. He told them of meeting the Yankee cavalry and that they would have to look out, and asked them to take a note to General Hindman for him. To this they readily assented and this is what Mark wrote: GENERAL: I am sorry to say that just as Spencer and I were to part we ran into a squad of Yankee cavalry. Poor Spencer was killed and I only escaped by the fleetness of my horse. If Spencer had dispatches that will embarrass you, you can govern yourself accordingly, for they are now in the hands of the enemy.