"Grant was to have attacked us yesterday. Why didn't he do it?"
"How should we know?"
"You came from Foster's only the day before. That's where the attack was to have been made."
"Why wasn't it made?"
"I don't know. Some think it was because you came in, and were expected out that way."
"Oh! That accounts for your being so late! You think we are spies, sent in to survey, and report on the route?"
"No, I do not. I think you are honest men, and I've said so."
And I have no doubt it was because he "said so" that we got out of Richmond.
By this time we had reached a dingy brick building, from one corner of which protruded a small sign, bearing, in black letters on a white ground, the words,—
LIBBY AND SON,