While they were conversing together a tall, dark-whiskered man came into the room, and after a quick, nervous glance at Webster, requested to see the land lord in another room. As they departed, Webster bestowed a searching look upon the new-comer and was at once impressed with the familiarity of his features. He recollected that while he was coming down on the stage, this man came riding rapidly behind them, seated in a buggy and driven by a young negro. They made several ineffectual attempts to pass the stage, and finally succeeded in doing so, and disappearing from view. Webster had forgotten all about him, until his sudden appearance at the hotel and his suspicious actions attracted his attention. After the lapse of a few minutes the two men again entered, and the stranger immediately took his departure.
Filled with curiosity as to the identity of the man, Webster carelessly observed to the landlord:
"That fellow seemed a little nervous, doesn't he?"
"Yes," replied the landlord, "and he has cause to be; he is a deserter from the Yanks."
"Was he an officer?"
"He says he was a surgeon, and had served in the regular army on the Pacific coast for a number of years. His family are Southerners, and he says he concluded to throw up his commission and join our side."
"Which way is he going?"
"He wants to get to Richmond as soon as he can. He will be back shortly and I'll introduce you to him; perhaps you can give him a helping hand."
"I'll do what I can," replied Webster, with a mental reservation. "What is his name?"
"He gave me his name as Doctor Gurley: he brought a letter from a friend of mine in Washington, and I believe he is carrying some messages to Mr. Benjamin, the Secretary of War, which he is very anxious to deliver as early as possible."