"Well, we may be fellow-travelers if he turns up in time to go over with me," said Webster, who was already attempting to devise some plan for intercepting the delivery of the dispatches which the titled deserter was carrying.
"I have made all arrangements," replied the landlord, "and will send you both down to-morrow in time to get the boat."
"All right," said Webster; "and now, as I have a little time before dinner, I will take a short walk to give me an appetite."
Webster was intent upon finding John Scobell, if possible. He had formed a plan for getting possession of the dispatches, and he required the services of his colored companion in order to perfect it. Keeping a sharp look-out about him, he strode on in the direction of the negro quarters, where he felt reasonably sure of meeting with the man he was in search of. As chance would have it, when within a short distance of the locality, he saw, to his intense delight, Scobell approaching him from the opposite direction. In a few words, he developed his plan to the intelligent darky, and from the broad grin which overspread his countenance, it was evident that he not only fully understood, but highly relished, the propositions that had been made. It was arranged, that Scobell should be in the neighborhood of the hotel during the afternoon, and that Webster should endeavor to point out to him the deserting surgeon, after which Scobell was to perform the duty which Webster had delegated to him.
That afternoon, the Doctor, who was stopping with some friends, a short distance out of town, made his appearance at the hotel, and Mr. Miller, having first assured him of my operative's loyalty, introduced the two men to each other. By reason of Webster's familiarity with the country, and his evident and hearty desire to serve his new-found friend, he soon won the kindly regards of the Doctor, who prolonged his visit until nearly dark. At length, promising to meet Webster on the morrow, and with a parting beverage, the Doctor started to go. Webster accompanied him to the door, and with apparent good-feeling, bade him good-evening. As Webster re-entered the hotel, he noticed with satisfaction that Scobell was on hand, and had posted himself in a secluded position, where, unobserved himself, he could watch the hotel, and notice what transpired.
"There is going to be a shower, and the Doctor will have to walk fast to escape it," said Webster, as he entered the bar-room.
He had been engaged in friendly conversation with Mr. Miller for about an hour, when they heard the hurried stamping of feet outside; in a few moments, the door was thrown suddenly open, and the deserting Doctor stood before them. The appearance of the Doctor was most rueful. He was without his hat; his clothing was disarranged, and torn and soiled; his face was of a death-like paleness, while his lips trembled as if with fear.
Webster and the landlord sprang to their feet, and rushed toward the man, who was very near falling from exhaustion.
"What has happened!" inquired Webster, in a tone of solicitude.
"I've been attacked and robbed!" ejaculated the Doctor, weakly.