The express train from Memphis was soon due, and as it came dashing in "on time," Webster jumped aboard, and was on his way toward Louisville, smiling in his sleeve as he thought of those two crafty foxes, whose cunning had overreached themselves, patiently awaiting his arrival at the hotel in Humboldt.
Before crossing the Kentucky line, Webster put his rebel hat out of sight, and once more donned the one he had worn from the North.
The remainder of his journey was made without incident, and in due time he arrived in Cincinnati, and reported to me.
A HOT LUNCH.
