"My dear sir," said the colonel, "I have no authority to give you any one's property. If you want a plantation you must purchase it of the owner."
"Well, but she harbors secesh."
"If her house becomes a nuisance in that way we shall be justified in burning it, but we can not take it from her and give it to any one else."
The colonel again turned to his papers, and Scraggs, his long-cherished hopes blasted, left the tent, mounted his old gray mare, and rode home.
Scraggs was only one of the many, on both sides, who reported their neighbors' deeds and misdeeds to reap reward therefrom.
As Mrs. Juniper sat in her room that evening, the tramp of hoofs came to her ears. She extinguished her light and, going to the window, looked out into the night. The pale rays of the moon fell upon a large body of cavalry dismounting at her gate, and, oh horrors! surrounding her house. Swift as the wind the widow flew down two flights of stairs to the cellar, where she acquainted the "brave soldier" of the fact, and implored him to be merciful, should they discover him, and not kill any more than was necessary in self-defense. Poor little Diggs sat cuddled up in one corner, his round face pale as death, looking anything in the world but dangerous.
Then came loud knocking at the front door.
"There," said the widow, "they are at the front door. I will try to send them away; but you are armed, and you are a brave man and there are not more than fifty; so, of course, you will not fear them."
The widow turned and left, while poor Diggs sat cowering and mentally ejaculating:
"Oh! Lordy, I'll be killed, I know I shall!"