“The story is long and it wouldn’t interest you. I never caught him. I went once into a circle of men in the Galt House at Louisville where he sat. I thought I had him sure, but he jumped up and bolted, I following. We had a mad run for it there in the street, but he got away. He gave me this”—and Merriam threw up his hands. The sleeve and cuff slipped back from his right arm, showing an old bullet scar on the wrist; and the old gentleman eyed the spot for a moment reflectively.
“He gave me that,” he said, and smiled. “Hamilton’s real name was Pollock—your father;”—and Merriam bent his keen gaze on the young man before him. “I think I may be pardoned for not caring greatly for the family. That business ruined my career in the army. There are a great many things that might have been different, if I hadn’t seriously compromised myself in that matter. The contemptible thing was the abuse of hospitality and confidence. I probably saved the man’s life; and he betrayed us all in the most infamous fashion possible.”
Pollock rose abruptly. He had listened with a puzzled look on his face to Rodney Merriam’s recital. He laughed now, the nervous laugh of relief.
“This man was a spy, sent out by the Confederate War Department on special errands for the Confederate president. Is that right?” he asked.
“That is correct. He became one of the best known spies in the South. I have no objection to him on that account. But he served me a scurvy trick,—I ought to forget it, I suppose, but, as I tell you, I’m an old man, and I look backward a good deal. Your father served me a nasty trick and your presence here has reminded me of it very disagreeably.”
“That man, Mr. Merriam, was no more my father than you are.”
“I can hardly be mistaken. Your father was a Confederate officer,—he was a Tennessee man—”
“He was all that, sir. He was an engineer on duty at Richmond throughout the war and was never a scout or spy in his life. If you had been as careful as you pretend to be in looking up his record you would have found that out.”
“But the name? It is your name.”
The old man was greatly annoyed and perplexed, and he rose now slowly and stood facing the young officer.