That afternoon, the Doctor, who was stopping with some friends, a short distance out of town, made his appearance at the hotel, and Mr. Miller, having first assured him of my operative's loyalty, introduced the two men to each other. By reason of Webster's familiarity with the country, and his evident and hearty desire to serve his new-found friend, he soon won the kindly regards of the Doctor, who prolonged his visit until nearly dark. At length, promising to meet Webster on the morrow, and with a parting beverage, the Doctor started to go. Webster accompanied him to the door, and with apparent good-feeling, bade him good-evening. As Webster re-entered the hotel, he noticed with satisfaction that Scobell was on hand, and had posted himself in a secluded position, where, unobserved himself, he could watch the hotel, and notice what transpired.
"There is going to be a shower, and the Doctor will have to walk fast to escape it," said Webster, as he entered the bar-room.
He had been engaged in friendly conversation with Mr. Miller for about an hour, when they heard the hurried stamping of feet outside; in a few moments, the door was thrown suddenly open, and the deserting Doctor stood before them. The appearance of the Doctor was most rueful. He was without his hat; his clothing was disarranged, and torn and soiled; his face was of a death-like paleness, while his lips trembled as if with fear.
Webster and the landlord sprang to their feet, and rushed toward the man, who was very near falling from exhaustion.
"What has happened!" inquired Webster, in a tone of solicitude.
"I've been attacked and robbed!" ejaculated the Doctor, weakly.
The landlord poured out a glass of spirits, which he gave to the demoralized Doctor, and after swallowing it, he seemed to regain his strength. After he had been sufficiently restored, he related his story. After leaving the hotel, he had started to walk toward the house where he was stopping. It becoming quite cloudy, and fearing a storm, he had hastened his pace in order to avoid the rain. Suddenly, as he was passing through a small patch of woods, he was stealthily approached from behind, by some one, who struck him a fearful blow on the back of the head. He was completely stunned and fell to the ground. When he recovered consciousness, he found that he had been thoroughly searched, and that his dispatches to the Secretary of War had been taken. Nothing else about his person was disturbed, and the attack had evidently been made by somebody who was aware of the fact that he had them in his possession. The Doctor's anxiety about his loss was pitiable in the extreme, but Webster could scarcely repress a smile of satisfaction, at the success which Scobell had achieved in capturing the precious documents.