"I have your names, comrades; but which is which I do not yet know. I wonder if I can pick you out," and again he ran his keen eye quickly from one to the other. Late laughed.
"My knife 'gainst yours that you can't tell who I am on the first guess," he said.
"It would hardly be a fair wager," was the reply, "for my knife is worth more than yours. But I'll venture a guess without a bet. You are Latham Wentworth."
"You've seen me somewhere 'fore now," the crestfallen youth cried when the laughter of his companions had subsided.
"No; but you gave yourself away when you made the bet. I have been told that you are always ready to wager anything you possess, from the shoes on your feet to the cap on your head."
"I reckon that's so," he admitted, joining in the laugh at his expense.
"What is it the good book says 'bout 'their works do follow them'?" asked Dan at this point. "I guess that is true of the livin' as well as the dead, Late."
"A remark that proves you are Daniel Cushing," was the comment of the newcomer. "You see I am nearly as well acquainted with you, as with Wentworth."
"It looks as if the general, or somebody, had sized us up 'bout right to you," young Cushing said curtly.
"There's no chance for me to hide it, so I'll admit I'm Joseph Fisher, at your service," that young man cried laughingly. "I'm quick to say it, too, for fear you'll show up some of my failin's. But you haven't told us your own name, an' the general didn't, either. I think we orter know that."
"If you had put your last sentences first, your confession of your identity would hardly have been necessary," was the significant answer.
"Your demand is a fair one," the lad replied, "and though it was my first thought to withhold my real name, you shall know it, but you must never call me by it, nor use it between yourselves when I am absent. It is not, in fact, to be spoken aloud. You will understand later why I make this strange request."
With these words he drew from the bosom of his hunting-shirt an iron cross, which evidently was attached to a chain about his neck. Taking hold of the top above the horizontal bar, he gave it a vigorous twist. It came off, showing that the lower portion was hollow, and contained a tiny paper. This he took out, and passed to Daniel Cushing, who sat nearest him.