as the Major fashioned the bold comely letters of his answer to William
Davidson, the King's purveyor. When he had signed his name, he picked
up a small sand-box, and lightly sprinkled the paper. This done, he
rose to his feet, crossed the room, and opened the door.

"Parker, bring me a fire," he ordered.

The soldier thus addressed evidently knew what was needed, for in a few
minutes he entered, bearing in his hands a small iron receptacle
containing a few hot coals. He stood perfectly rigid before the table
while the Major held a stick of sealing-wax to the hot iron, and
allowed a few drops to fall upon the back of the folded letter. When
the Major had pressed his signet ring upon the wax, the task was
finished, the soldier saluted and left the room. After the Major had
addressed the letter, and sprinkled it until the ink was dry, he handed
it to the courier.

"Take this to Davidson," he ordered. "I am glad that I have met you,
young man, and I hope to hear from you again."

Dane took the letter, placed it carefully in an inside pocket of his
jacket, bade the two men good morning, and at once left the room.

"What do you think of him?" the Major asked turning toward the trader.

"A remarkable young man," was the emphatic reply. "But I am surprised
that I have not heard of him before."

"It is strange. But look here, Mr. Simonds," and the Major brought his
fist down heavily upon the table, "if I had a regiment of men like that