"Oh, no, you don't," he said, with an evil grin.

"I've got a better use for that little piece of paper." "What do you mean ?" "I mean that you're my prisoner, Mister Johnnie Reb," was the brutal answer.
"For what ?" asked Cary, while his heart grew sick inside him and his lips twitched.

Richmond--and food for Virgie were growing farther away every moment.
"Because you're a Rebel _spy_, that's why," came the biting answer.
"Oh--none of that," as Cary's fists doubled up and he made a forward step at the Corporal.

"I guess you know what's good for you, with three guns at your back.

If Colonel Morrison wouldn't take you as a spy, _I will!_" "Here, boys," he said in brusque command to his men, "we'll have to cut the supper and take this man to camp.