As for Fred, he drew a long breath. He knew that he had gained information of the greatest value to the Federal cause.
"It is time for me to be going," he said to himself. "Nelson must know of this as soon as possible."
As he passed out of the room, he came face to face with Major Hockoday.
The major stared at him a moment, and then roughly asked: "What is your name, and what are you doing here?"
"I see no reason why I should report to you," replied Fred. "I am a guest at this hotel, and am minding my own business. I wish I could say as much for you," and he walked away.
The major looked after him, his face red with anger, and muttered: "Strange! but if that boy didn't have black hair and was not dark, I should swear it was Fred Shackelford. I must find out more about him."
But a gentleman came along just then and engaged him in conversation. As soon as he could disengage himself, the major examined the hotel register to find who occupied room 13. Opposite that number he found written in a bold, boyish hand:
"F. Carrington.... Louisville."
Fred's full name was Fred Carrington Shackelford, and he had registered his given names only. Major Hockoday made careful inquiry about the boy, but no one knew him. He had paid his bill, called for his horse, and rode away. More the people could not tell. Major Hockoday was troubled, why he hardly knew; but somehow he felt as if the presence of that black-haired boy boded no good to their cause.
All of this time Fred was riding swiftly towards Lexington.