“He knew something,” she said. “That—that man Booth was a spy, Uncle Jimmy. I could hear him asking all sorts of questions, and when the sergeant came out his face was——” “Sergeant, eh?” interrupted Uncle Jimmy. “Any sergeants from the Headquarters Troop on leave, Tommy?” “I’ll find out, sir.” Tommy went away. “I had got into the car, and he was coming, when three or four other soldiers came along. They all went back into the building, and I—I thought they were going to get Mr. Booth. But pretty soon they came out without him, and one of them gave me this slicker; and—and they all went away.” “Good Lord!” said the general suddenly. “The young devils! The—the young scamps! So that was it. Now look here, Peggy,” he said, bending forward with a twinkle. “I—well, I understand, I can’t explain, but it was just mischief. Your young man’s all right, though where he’s hiding——” He broke off and chuckled. “He is not at all the hiding sort.” “Under certain circumstances, Peggy,” observed the general, “any man will hide—and should.” Some time later, at approximately the hour when Sergeant Gray’s twenty-three and a half hours’ leave was up, the little car started for the city. It contained one anxious young lady, one general who rolled constant cigarettes and chuckled, and one aide on the folding seat in the back, rather resentful because there was no adequate place for his legs. “I’m going along, Tommy,” the general had said. “It promises to be rather good, and I need cheering. Besides, under the circumstances, a member of Miss Peggy’s family——” At the building on Twenty-second Street the general got out, leaving Peggy discreetly in the car. He was a large and very military figure, and he summoned the elevator man with a single commanding gesture. “I want to know,” said the general fixing him with a cold eye, “whether you happened, yesterday afternoon, to have seen about here an enlisted man without a uniform?” “I did,” said the elevator man unctuously. “You did—what?” “I did see him.” “Say, ‘sir’,” prompted the aide. “I did—sir.” It plainly hurt to say it. “When and where did you see him last?” “At one-thirty, getting into a police wagon—sir.” “Exactly,” said the general. “You of course provided him with clothing before the—er—arrest.” “I did not,” said the elevator man, who had by now decided that no man could bully him, even if he did wear two stars. “He stole a suit. And before he did that he like to killed two men. Mr. Booth, he’s in the hospital now; and as for the other gentleman, he was took away in a taxi last night. If he was one of your men, all I got to say is——” “Of no importance whatever,” finished the general coldly. “Find out where he was taken,” he added to Tommy, and stalked out. The elevator man followed him with resentful eyes. “You tell Pershing, or the Secretary of War, or whatever that is,” he said venomously, “that his pet wild cat is in the central police station. I expect he’s in a padded cell. Good-by.”