He led the way, six troopers following, while the rest remained behind
to guard the cabin's open door. Virgie slowly turned her head, with eyes
that watched the officer's every move; then presently she called:

"Hey, there! That's _my_ room--an' don't you-all bother any of my
things, either!"

This one command, at least, was implicitly obeyed, for in a moment the
disappointed squad returned. The carbine butts were grounded; the
troopers stood at orderly attention, while their officer stepped toward
the table.

"What's your name, little monkey?"

Virgie raised her eyes in swift reproach.

"I don't like to be called a monkey. It--it isn't respectful."

The Union soldier laughed.

"O-ho! I see." He touched his hat and made her a sweeping bow. "A
thousand pardons, Mademoiselle." He shot his sword into its scabbard,
and laughed again. "Might I inquire as to what you are called by
your--er--justly respectful relatives and friends?"

"Virgie," she answered simply.

"Ah," he approved, "and a very pretty name! Virgie what?"