information to the enemy. How do I know if that information would
be so safeguarded as not to get out?"

As I was walking down the long corridor, which was full of hurrying
officers and soldiers returning from the field or departing for it,
I met Elihu B. Washburne, who was a congressman from Illinois
and an intimate friend of the president. He stopped me and said:

"Hello, Mr. Secretary, you seem very much troubled. Can I help you?"
I told him my story.

"What are you going to do?" he asked. I answered: "To protect
myself I must report to the people of New York that the provision
for the soldiers' voting cannot be carried out because the
administration refuses to give information where the New York
soldiers are located."

"Why," said Mr. Washburne, "that would beat Mr. Lincoln. You don't
know him. While he is a great statesman, he is also the keenest
of politicians alive. If it could be done in no other way, the
president would take a carpet-bag and go around and collect those
votes himself. You remain here until you hear from me. I will
go at once and see the president."

In about an hour a staff officer stepped up to me and asked: "Are
you the secretary of state of New York?" I answered "Yes."
"The secretary of war wishes to see you at once," he said. I found
the secretary most cordial and charming.

"Mr. Secretary, what do you desire?" he asked. I stated the case