THE FORTUNES OF WAR
It was dreary waiting in the stuffy room. Miss Metoaca, who had
resigned herself to the inevitable after her recent explosion, was busy
knitting a talma, a round cape which, like Penelope's web, seemed to
the uninitiated to have no beginning and no end. She always carried it
with her in a voluminous pocket as she hated to be idle. Nancy, busy
with her own thoughts, sat gazing abstractedly at the dingy wall. The
tread of the sentries could be distinctly heard as they tramped back
and forth before the windows and door. The sergeant and Symonds sat by
the entrance, watching their prisoners closely. The piercing shriek of
a locomotive broke the stillness, and soon with a grinding of brakes
the special train came to a standstill in front of the depot. Symonds
and Lieutenant Field, of the Provost Guard, met Lloyd as he jumped to
the platform.
"Miss Newton and her niece are in the waiting room, Captain Lloyd,"
reported the lieutenant, "under guard. Their luggage is in the station
master's room awaiting your inspection."
"Good!" Lloyd's tone of satisfaction made Goddard's blood boil. Lloyd
turned to his silent friend, and held out his hand. "How are you, Bob?"
Goddard ignored the outstretched hand and the cordial greeting.
"What do you mean by this high-handed outrage, Captain Lloyd?" he
demanded bitterly.
Lloyd's eyes flashed. "Do not stretch my friendship too far, Bob. Your
apparent infatuation for that rebel spy"--Goddard winced perceptibly,
and his color heightened--"blinds your judgment. I give you fair
warning, sir, that if you interfere in any way in this affair you will
be placed in close arrest."
Without a word Goddard turned on his heel and walked to the further end
of the platform. Lloyd returned to the car, and joined two women who
stood waiting patiently by its side.
"This way, Miss Watt," and followed by both women he led the way to the
waiting room. Lieutenant Field threw open the door.
"Captain Lloyd," he announced.
Miss Metoaca's busy fingers stopped and she surveyed the newcomer from
head to foot, but Nancy never turned in his direction.
"What do you want?" inquired Miss Metoaca, seeing that neither of them
spoke.
"The copy of the despatch from the adjutant general's office dropped by
Colonel Mitchell last night."
"Haven't such a thing. Wouldn't know it if I saw it," snapped Miss
Metoaca.
"Symonds, you and the sergeant can step outside." Lloyd waited until
they were well out of hearing. "Miss Newton," turning directly to
Nancy, "you and I have met before."
Nancy raised her head and glanced closely at him. "Oh, yes," she said.
"I believe I have seen you once or twice."
"Twice?" Lloyd laughed. "I have a better memory than you. How about the
27th of December?"
Nancy looked at him in genuine surprise. "You speak in riddles," she
said disdainfully.
"I think you can solve this one," he touched the scar on his temple.
"The blow from your revolver kept me in the hospital for some time."
"Is the man crazy?" Miss Metoaca straightened indignantly in her chair.
"My niece does not go around knocking men on the head, though she has
broken some hearts."
"Come, Miss Newton, evasion will not help you," said Lloyd impatiently,
paying no attention to Miss Metoaca's remark. "I know you are a rebel
spy..."
"Do you know the meaning of the word 'spy'?" inquired Nancy hotly.
"Perfectly," briefly. "I have wasted quite enough time. Give me that
despatch!"
"What despatch?"
Lloyd lost all patience. "Once for all, do you intend to give me that
despatch, or not?"
Nancy shrugged her shoulders. "It is impossible to give what we do not
possess."
Lloyd strode to the door and beckoned to the two women standing in the
hall.
"Search these ladies," he directed, pointing to Miss Metoaca and Nancy,
"and see that you search them thoroughly. I am positive the older lady
is padded." Miss Metoaca's face was a study. "If they give you any
trouble I will send in a guard to assist you," and with this parting
threat he walked out of the room and banged the door to behind him.
"Don't you lay a finger on me," ordered Miss Metoaca belligerently. "If
you do I will box your ears!"
"What good would that do you?" asked Miss Watt practically. "I guess
you would rather have me than one of the men undress you. Do be
reasonable."
"Yes, Aunt Metoaca, let us get it over and done with." Nancy's face was
white, and she looked with frightened eyes at the two women. "President
Lincoln shall hear of this outrage."
"He shall!" Miss Metoaca's tone spoke volumes as she reluctantly began
undressing.
Deftly the women detectives went about their work. Nothing escaped
their notice. Garments were held up to the light to see if anything lay
concealed in the linings, some were ripped open; their shoes were
examined with care. Nothing was discovered.
"I hope you are satisfied," snapped Miss Metoaca, hot in spirit, but
decidedly cold physically. "I do not enjoy impersonating Eve. Give me
those underclothes at once!"
Miss Watt handed her the necessary articles. "Take down your hair," she
directed.
Miss Metoaca stopped dressing, one stocking suspended in air.
"What?" she exclaimed indignantly. "Is nothing above suspicion?" She
whirled around and saw the other detective cutting open a pincushion.
"Mercy sakes, what do you think you will find in that?"
"Quinine," answered the woman curtly. But her search was not rewarded,
and she threw the useless pincushion on the floor.
Without a word Nancy let down her hair. It fell in profusion over her
shoulders and down her back. Quickly the detective ran her fingers over
the girl's head. Without further ado Miss Watt did the same with Miss
Metoaca's scant gray locks.
"You can put on your clothes," she said, more kindly, and with skillful
fingers she assisted Miss Metoaca into her dress, and helped her
arrange her hair.
"Well!" Miss Metoaca drew a long breath. "I have been through a good
deal in my life, but I reckon this beats creation. I look like a
scarecrow! Nancy, are you ready? Yes. Then, perhaps, Miss Watt, you
will be good enough to inform that apology for a gentleman, Captain
Lloyd, that I would like to see him."
Lloyd came at once in answer to the detective's call. His face fell
when she declared nothing had been found of a suspicious nature, and no
trace of the missing despatch.
"Do you mean to say Miss Metoaca Newton was not padded?" he asked
incredulously.
"No, sir," Miss Watt hesitated. A slow smile passed over her sharp
face. "That is just natural development," she added.
Nancy turned and addressed Lloyd. "This farce is played out. I demand
our instant release from this humiliating situation."
Lloyd pondered for a moment. His thorough search of their luggage had
revealed nothing compromising. Apparently the Newtons were innocent. He
had no authority to keep them under arrest unless he had found positive
evidence of their guilt. He thought over the situation quickly, and
came to a sudden decision.
"If I have put you to annoyance, it was but in the line of duty," he
said gravely. "Accept my apologies, ladies."
"Seems to me they come a little late in the day," retorted Miss
Metoaca, struggling into her wrap. "Are we at liberty to go to a hotel,
if there is such a thing near this depot?"
"I am going on to Winchester, and will take you both there in my
special car." Lloyd led the way to the platform. "Miss Watt, a train
leaves for Washington in half an hour which you and your companion can
take. On your arrival report at once to Colonel Baker."
They found Goddard waiting at the steps of the car.
"I hope you suffered no indignities, Miss Metoaca," he asked, assisting
her up the high steps; then, without waiting for an answer, he turned
eagerly to Nancy, who colored hotly as she placed her hand for one
second in his before entering the car.