The Lost Despatch, Page 2

  CHAPTER II

  BRAINS VS. BRAWN

  Up Thirteenth Street came the measured tread of marching feet, and twocompanies of infantry turned the corner into New York Avenue. Thesoldiers marched with guns reversed and colors furled. A few passers-bystopped to watch the sad procession. Suddenly they were startled bypeal on peal of merry laughter, which came from a bevy of girlsstanding in front of Stuntz's notion store. Instantly two officers lefttheir places by the curb and walked over to the little group.

  "Your pardon, ladies," said Lloyd sternly. "Why do you laugh at asoldier's funeral?"

  The young girl nearest him wheeled around, and inspected Lloyd fromhead to foot.

  "What's that to you, Mr. Yank?" she demanded impudently.

  "Nothing to me, madam; but for you, perhaps, Old Capitol Prison."

  "Nonsense, Lloyd," exclaimed his companion, Major Goddard. "I am surethe young ladies meant no intentional offense."

  Lloyd's lips closed in a thin line, but before he could reply a girlstanding in the background stepped forward and addressed him.

  "We meant no disrespect to the dead," she said, and her clear,bell-like voice instantly caught both men's attention. "In fact, we didnot notice the funeral; they are, alas, of too frequent occurrencethese days to attract much attention."

  "Ah, indeed." Lloyd's tone betrayed his disbelief. "And may I ask whatyou were laughing at?"

  "Certainly; at Misery."

  "Misery?" Lloyd's color rose. He hated to be made ridiculous, and atitter from the listening girls roused his temper. "Is that anothername for a funeral?"

  "No, sir," demurely; "it is the name of my dog."

  "Your dog?"

  "Yes, my pet dog. You know, 'Misery loves company.'" The soft, hazeleyes lighted with a mocking smile as she looked full at the twoperplexed men. "I'm 'company,'" she added softly.

  In silence Lloyd studied the girl's face with growing interest, Avague, elusive likeness haunted him. Where had he heard that voicebefore? At that instant the glint of her red-gold hair in the wintersunshine caught his eye. His unspoken question was answered.

  "Who's being arrested now?" asked a quiet voice behind Lloyd, and aman, leaning heavily on his cane, pushed his way through the crowd thathad collected about the girls. The slight, limping figure was wellknown in every section of Washington, and Lloyd stepped backrespectfully to make room for Doctor John Boyd. It was the first timehe had seen the famous surgeon at such close quarters, and he examinedthe grotesque old face with interest.

  Doctor Boyd had lost none of the briskness of youth, despite hislameness, nor his fingers their skill, but his face was a mass ofwrinkles. His keen, black eyes, bristling gray beard, predatory nose,and saturnine wit, together with his brusque manner, made strangersfear him. But their aversion was apt to change to idolatry when hebecame their physician.

  "What, Nancy Newton, you here?" continued the surgeon, addressing thelast speaker, "and Belle Cary? Have you two girls been sassing ourmilitary friends?" indicating the two officers with a wave of his hand.

  "Indeed, no, Doctor John," protested Nancy; "such an idea never enteredour heads. But these gentlemen don't seem to believe me."

  Major Goddard stepped forward, and raised his cap.

  "The young lady is mistaken, doctor," he said gravely. "We do believeher, notwithstanding," glancing quizzically at Nancy, "that we have notyet seen her dog."

  "Misery!" exclaimed the surgeon, laughing. "So my four-footed friendhas gotten you into hot water again, Nancy? I might have known it.Here's the rascal now."

  Around the corner of Twelfth Street, with an air of conscious virtue,trotted the cause of all the trouble--a handsome, red-brown fieldspaniel. Robert Goddard, a lover of dogs, snapped his fingers andwhistled, but Misery paid not the slightest attention to hisblandishments. Wagging his tail frantically, he tore up to Nancy, andfrisked about her.

  "Misery, give me that bone." Nancy stooped over, and endeavored to takeit from the struggling dog. "I cannot stop his eating in the streets.Oh, he's swallowed it!" Misery choked violently, and looked withreproachful eyes at his mistress. "You sinner," patting the soft brownbody, "come along--that is," addressing Lloyd, "if you do not wish todetain us any longer."

  "You are at liberty to go." Lloyd bowed stiffly.

  "Hold on, Nancy; if you have no particular engagement, come with me tomy office. I have a bottle of medicine to send your aunt," exclaimedDoctor Boyd hastily. "Good evening, gentlemen." And he bowed curtly toLloyd and his friend.

  On reaching F Street, the group of girls separated, and Nancyaccompanied Doctor Boyd to his office.

  "Go into the waiting room, Nancy," directed the surgeon. "It won't takeme a moment to write the directions on the label of the bottle."

  Obediently Nancy entered the room, followed by Misery, and as thesurgeon disappeared into his consulting office, she glanced keenlyabout her. The room was empty. Quickly she bent over her dog, and tookoff his round leather collar. Another searching glance about the room;then from a hollow cavity in the round collar, the opening of which wascleverly concealed by the buckle, she drew a tiny roll of tissue paper.Opening it, she read:

  Find out Sheridan's future movements. Imperative.

  Nancy dropped on her knees before the open grate, tossed the paper intothe glowing embers, and watched it burn to the last scrap. A cold, wetnose against her hand roused her.

  "Misery, you darling." She stooped, and buried her face in the wrigglingbody. "My little retriever!" Misery licked her face ecstatically. "If Ionly knew which way Sam went after giving you that message for me, muchvaluable time could be saved. As it is----" Doctor Boyd's entrance cutshort her whispered words.

  * * * * *

  Lloyd and his friend, Major Goddard, watched Nancy and her companionsout of sight; then continued on their way to Wormley's Hotel, each busywith his own thoughts. The grill room of that famous hostelry was halfempty when they reached there, and they had no difficulty in securing atable in a secluded corner. While Lloyd was giving his order to thewaiter, Colonel Baker stopped at their table.

  "Heard the news?" he asked eagerly; then not waiting for an answer:"They say at the department General Joe Johnston has been captured."

  His words were overheard by Wormley, the colored proprietor, who wasspeaking to the head waiter.

  "'Scuse me, Colonel Baker," he said deferentially. "You all ain'tcaptured General Johnston. No, sah. I knows Marse Joe too well tob'lieve that."

  Wormley was a privileged character, and his remark was received withgood-natured laughter. Under cover of the noise, Baker whispered toLloyd: "_Stanton has discovered his cipher code book has been tamperedwith._ Meet me at my office at five o'clock."

  "All right, Colonel," and Baker departed.

  By the time they had reached dessert, the grill room was deserted.Goddard lighted a cigar, and, lounging back in his chair, contemplatedhis host with keen interest.

  "I can't understand it, Lloyd," he said finally.

  "Understand what?" replied Lloyd, roused from his abstraction.

  "Why you became a professional detective. With your social position,talents..."

  "That's just it!"

  "What?"

  "My talents. If it had not been for them, I would have gone to WestPoint with you, Bob. But, above all else in the world I enjoy pittingmy wits against another's--enjoy unravelling mysteries that baffleothers. To me there is no excitement equal to a man hunt. I suppose ina way it is an inheritance; my father was a great criminal lawyer, andhis father before him. When Pinkerton organized the Secret Servicedivision of the army in '61, I went with him, thinking I could followmy chosen profession and serve my country at the same time. Besides,"with a trace of bitterness in his voice, "I owe society nothing; nor doI desire to associate with society people."

  Goddard gazed sorrowfully at his friend. "Hasn't the old wound healed,Lloyd?" he asked softly.

  "No; nor ever will," was the brief response, a
nd Lloyd's face grewstern with the pain of other years. "As I told you, Bob, I was detailedhere to solve a very serious problem for our government," he resumed,after a slight pause. "Baker has rounded up and arrested all personssuspected of corresponding with the rebels, and sent some to OldCapitol Prison, and others through the lines to Richmond, where theycan do us no harm. Most of these spies gave themselves away by theirsecesh talk, or by boasting of their ability to run the blockade.

  "But information of our armies' intended movements is still beingcarried out of Washington right under Baker's nose. It is imperativethat this leak be stopped at once, or the Union forces may sufferanother Bull Run. Baker and the provost marshal of the district havetried every means in their power to learn the methods and the identityof this spy, but so far without success."

  "But have you found no trace in your search?" inquired Goddard eagerly.

  "Until to-day I had only a theory; now I have a clue, a faint one,but----" Lloyd paused and glanced about the room to see that he was notoverheard. They had the place to themselves, save for their waiter,Sam, who was busy resetting a table in the opposite corner. "I havetold you, Bob, how I came to get this wound"--Lloyd touched histemple--"when on my way to Poolesville." Goddard nodded assent. "But Idid not tell you that before the supposed trooper made good his escapehis hat was knocked off and Symonds saw that the spy was a woman."

  "A woman!" Goddard nearly dropped his cigar in his astonishment. "Howdid he find that out?"

  "Her hair fell down her back when her hat was knocked off."

  Goddard stared at his companion. "Well, I'll be--blessed!" he muttered.

  "I have been looking for such a woman for some time, and until to-daywithout success," declared Lloyd calmly.

  "Did she by chance leave any trace, any clues, behind her in herflight?"

  "One." Lloyd pulled out his leather wallet. "On examining the hat,which he picked up on his return to where I was lying unconscious,Symonds found these hairs adhering to the lining. He put them in anenvelope and brought them to me at the hospital." Lloyd drew out asmall paper, which he opened with care. "Have you ever seen hair ofthat color before?"

  Goddard took the opened paper, and glanced at its contents. A fewred-gold hairs confronted him. Instantly his thoughts flew to the sceneof that morning. In his mind's eye he saw the laughing face, the lovelycurly Titian hair, and heard the mocking, alluring voice say: "I'mcompany." He slowly raised his head in time to see the steady gaze oftheir negro waiter fixed full upon the paper in his hand.