Here are duplicate dispatches, one set for the President of the United States and the other for the Secretary of War.

They tell of a successful fight that we had last night with Southern troops, presumably the cavalrymen of Turner Ashby.

I wish you to send them at once." "He's speakin' the exact truth, Jim," said Red Blaze, who had come in behind Dick, "an' I've brought him an' the sergeant here over the mountains to tell about it." The boy sprang to his instrument.

But he stopped a moment to ask one question.
"Did you really beat 'em off ?" he asked as he looked up with shining eye.
"We certainly did," replied Dick.
"I'll send it faster than I ever sent anything before," said the boy.
"To think of me, Jim Johnson, sending a dispatch to Abraham Lincoln, telling of a victory!" "I reckon you're right, Jim, it's your chance," said Red Blaze.
Jim bent over the instrument which now began to click steadily and fast.
"You're to wait for answers," said Dick.
The boy nodded, but his shining eyes remained bent over the instrument.
Dick went to the door, brushed off the snow, came back and sat down by the stove.

Sergeant Whitley, who had tied the horses to hitching posts, came in, pulled up an empty box and sat down by him.