You see--" He stopped abruptly, turning his head and listening with keen intentness.

"What's that ?" he asked.
"_I_ didn't hear anything," said Virgie, breathing very fast; but she too had heard it--a sound above them, a scraping sound, as of someone lying flat along the rafters and shifting his position and, while she spoke, a telltale bit of plaster fell, and broke as it struck the floor.
Morrison looked up, starting as he saw the outlines of the closely fitting scuttle, for the loft was so low and shallow that he had not suspected its presence from an outside view; but now he was certain of the fugitive's hiding-place.

Virgie watched him, trembling, growing hot in the pit of her little stomach; yet, when he faced her, she looked him squarely in the eye, fighting one last battle for her daddy--as hopeless as the tottering cause of the Stars and Bars.
"You--you don't think he can fly, do you ?" "No, little Rebel," the soldier answered gently, sadly; "but there are other ways." He glanced at the table, measuring its height with the pitch of the ceiling, then turned to her again: "Is your father in that loft ?" She made no answer, but began to back away.

"Tell me the truth.
Look at me!" Still no answer, and he took a step toward her, speaking sternly: "Do you hear me?
_Look_ at me!" She tried; but her courage was oozing fast.

She had done her best, but now it was more than the mite could stand; so she bit her lip to stop its quivering, and turned her head away.