"I told you before, Major, that I was simply asking questions, not answering them," said the Confederate spy, for such the fellow really was. "I repeat, can you swim?"
"A little."
"Can you swim across this stream?"
"Perhaps I can."
"I am going to give you an opportunity to try. Wade out ahead of me, and toward that point where three trees appear to shoot from one trunk," directed the spy, with a wave of his unoccupied hand forward.
"So you expect to take me along with you," said Deck, steadily. "I may flatly refuse."
"If you refuse, you'll never tell anybody, Major, for I will take your life where you stand," answered the spy, as coolly as though he was speaking of the weather or some equally commonplace topic.
The young major did not doubt but that he would keep his word. The fellow evidently knew his business, and in coming into the Union camp he had taken his life into his hands. Probably he had before this shed human life in the same cold-blooded manner. To him the game of war was a science, and the end justified any means.
"Do you think I will make a valuable prisoner?"
"I see you are bound to ask questions. I am equally determined not to answer them. Will you swim or not?"