"I have that of three days ago," answered the spy, and advancing, he gave it, and also brought forth a slip of paper which the picket examined with interest. The corporal of the guard was called, and he took both of the newcomers in charge.
An examination in a tent pitched some distance back from the stream evidently proved satisfactory to several officers present, and the spy was allowed to proceed on his way, and much to Deck's astonishment he was asked to come along.
"Are you going to take me to the prisoner's camp?" asked Deck, as they walked away.
"We will talk about that later, Major. By the way, what is your name?"
"Major Dexter Lyon."
"Well, Major Lyon, I presume you do not relish being a prisoner?"
"Hardly, Captain Brentford."
"I see you caught my name up to the tent. It saves me the trouble of introducing myself. I am Captain Brentford, of General Bragg's staff."
"I presume you gained considerable information while inside the Union lines," went on Deck, curiously.
"I did gain a good deal, but not as much as one would wish. Your fellows are pretty close-mouthed. I must give them credit for it. I wish I could say as much for our gallant boys of the South."