I scanned his face again intently, surprised by the question, yet
recognized no familiar features.

"No," I replied, with some hesitation. "Have we ever met before?"

"Not to my remembrance," and the man's language and accent evidenced
education above his apparent station. "But I have won some repute in this
part of the Jerseys, an' thought my name might be known to you. You would
recognize the signature of George Washington?"

"I have seen it often."

He drew a flat leather case from a pocket inside his shirt, extracting
therefrom a folded paper, which he opened, and extended to me across the
table. With a glance I mastered the few lines written thereon,
recognizing its genuineness.

"Hamilton penned that," I said in quick surprise, "and it is signed by
Washington's own hand."

The deep-set eyes twinkled.

"Right," he said shortly, "that bit of paper may save me from hangin'
some day. There are those who would like well to see me swing if they
only laid hands on me at the right time and place. You know what the
paper is?"

"A commission as Captain," and I bent over it again, "issued to Daniel
Farrell, giving him independent command of scouts--by heavens! are you