“‘Sir: It has been noticed that you have refused to forward supplies intended for the wives and children of Confederate soldiers. This refers especially to the wife and children of one John Pruitt.’”
“There is no signature,” said Mr. Henderson. “This”—taking up another document—“we will call number two.”
“‘Sir: It is known that no supplies have left this post for the wife and children of one John Pruitt. Will the Relief Committee have to act?
“Here,” continued Mr. Henderson, “is the last. It is number three:
“‘Sir: John Pruitt is in jail, where he can not help himself. The Relief Committee will meet to-morrow night. Hold yourself in readiness to hear again the story of the retreat from Laurel Hill.’”
“Well?” said Mr. Deometari, as Mr. Henderson paused.
“Well, the man was worried nearly to death. He was in a continual fidget. At last he came to me and talked the matter over. That was yesterday. We went over the Laurel Hill incidents together, and I used Archie Blandford’s name pretty freely. The upshot of it was that I advised Captain Johnson to report to the commander of the post in Macon, and he took my advice.”
“Do I look like a dangerous man?” asked Mr. Blandford, turning to Joe.
“Not now,” replied Joe. “But your eyes are very bright.”
“I wish to goodness they were as bright as yours!” said Mr. Blandford, laughing.