They had taken but a few steps along the little path when the quick firm military tread of the President was heard. They turned just in time to see him encounter the toiling trooper from North Carolina. The soldier's jaw suddenly dropped and his eyes kindled with joy. He stood squarely in the President's way and laughed good naturedly. "Say--Mister!" "Well, sir?" "Say--now--ain't yo' name Jeff'son Davis?" The President nodded in a friendly way. "It is." "I knowed it," the trooper laughed. "By Gum, I knowed it, the minute I laid my eyes on ye--" He moved closer with insinuating joy. "I bet ye could never guess how I knowed it--could ye?" "Hardly--" "Ye want me ter tell ye?" The trooper laughed again. "I knowed ye the very minute I seed ye--'cause ye look thez ezactly like a Confederate postage stamp! I know 'em 'cause I've licked 'em!" The President laughed and passed on his way without looking back. They found a crowd of cranks and inventors waiting to see him. He had the same weakness as Abraham Lincoln for this class of men. He never allowed a clerk to turn one way without his personal attention. His interest in all scientific problems was keen, and he had always maintained the open mind of youth to all inventions. Socola and Jennie strolled through the city for an hour until the crank levee was over. The President's secretary, Burton Harrison, promised them an interview at the end of that time. He ushered them into the room under the impression that all the callers had gone. He had overlooked a modest, timid youth who had quietly approached the Chief Executive's desk. They paused until he was at leisure. The moment was one of illumination for Socola. He saw a trait of character in the Southern leader whose existence he had not suspected. "My name is Ashe--Mr. President, S. A. Ashe," the youth began. Davis bowed gravely. "Have a seat, sir." The boy sat down and twiddled his cap nervously. "I've come to ask an appointment of some kind in the regular army of the Confederacy. I'm an officer of the North Carolina militia. I wish to enter the regular army." The Confederate chieftain looked at the peculiarly youthful, beardless face. He couldn't be more than eighteen from appearances. "I'm afraid you're too young, sir," he said slowly, shaking his head. The boy drew himself up with a touch of wounded pride. "Why, Mr. Davis, I voted for you for President last November." Instantly the Chief Executive rose, blushing his apology. He laid his hand on the boy's shoulder and spoke with the utmost deference. "I beg your pardon, sir. I should have been more observant and thoughtful. I was very much like you when I was a boy. It was a long time before I had any whiskers myself." With a friendly smile he touched his thin beard.