“We’ll call it twenty-two thousand,” said McClave, “since Mr. Bagby persists.  Will you give any more?”

“One hunded more,” said Hennion; and nobody offering above him, it was knocked down at that price.

As the sale was declared completed, Bagby rose.  “At least, I made you pay double for it,” he growled spitefully to his competitor.

“Yer did, consarn yer,” was Hennion’s reply; but then a smile succeeded the angry look on the shrewd face.  “I did n’t pay more ’n a third of what ’t is wuth, then.”

“’T will be a dear buy, that I warn you,” retorted Joseph, angrily.  “I’ll pay you off yet for bidding me out of it.”

“Yer be keerful what yer do, or I’ll do some payin’ off myself,” warned Hennion.

Brereton, who had stayed through the sale, with a contemptous shrug of the shoulders, walked over to the ordinary.  Here he ate a silent supper, and then mounting his horse set off on his evening ride back to his regiment.

Half-way between Brunswick and Greenwood, while his thoughts were dwelling on the day’s doings, and on what effect it would have on those far away in the mountains of Virginia, he was brought back to the present by hearing his name called in a low voice from behind a wall.

“Who ’s that?” he demanded, halting his horse.

“Are you alone?”

“Yes,” replied the officer, as he drew out a pistol from the holster.

“No occasion for that, colonel,” said Joe Bagby’s unmistakable accents, as the man climbed over the stones and came forward.  “It’s me,” he announced.  “Just walk your horse slow, so I can keep beside you, for I’ve something to tell you, and I don’t want to stand still here in the road.”

“Well, what is it?” questioned Brereton, as he started his horse walking.

“I rather guess you came to town on business, did n’t you?”

“Perhaps.”

“Might be something to do with the sale of Greenwood.”

“Possibly.”

“But more likely ’t was something to do with public matters?”

“Well?”

“What would you give to catch them as was concerned in the killing of the post-riders?”

Not a motion or sound did Jack give to betray himself.  “That lies outside of my work,” he said. “’T is the business of the secret service.”

“Do you mean that, if I can put you in the way of laying hands on the whole gang, you won’t do it?”

“If you choose to tell me what you know, I’ll report it, for what it ’s worth, to headquarters, and General Washington will take such actions as he judges fit.”

“There won’t be time for that,” asserted Joe.  “It’s to-morrow the thing ’s to be played.”

“What thing?”

“The robbing of the mail.”

“How know you that?”

“Well, being in politics, colonel, I make it my business to know most things that is happening in the county.  Now, I’ve been ferreting for some time to get at this post-riding business, and at last I’ve found out how it ’s done.  And they ’re going to do it again to-morrow night just this side of Rocky Hill.”