the coming war," said Ramsay.

"Or more likely fill a grave," said Colonel Talbot, dryly.

The silent young man across the table looked at the South Carolinian
with interest, and Harry in his turn examined this stranger. He was
built well, shaven smoothly, and did not look like a Tennesseean.
His thin lips, often pressed closely together, seemed to indicate a
capacity for silence, but when he saw Harry looking at him he smiled
and said:

"I gather from your conversation that you are going to Charleston.
All southern roads seem to lead to that town, and I, too, am going
there. My name is Shepard, William J. Shepard, of St. Louis."

Colonel Talbot turned a measuring look upon him. It was so intent and
comprehensive that the young man flushed slightly, and moved a little in
his seat.

"So you are from St. Louis?" said the colonel. "That is a great city,
and you must know something about the feeling there. Can you tell me
whether Missouri will go out?"

"I cannot," replied Shepard. "No man can. But many of us are at work."

"What do you think?" persisted Colonel Talbot.

"I am hoping. Missouri is really a Southern state, the daughter of
Kentucky, and she ought to join her Southern sisters. As the others
go out one by one, I think she will follow. The North will not fight,