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He asked where the boy was living. "Nowhere I am starving," was the reply. Honest Franz Spangler was touched at once. "We can't stand here in the rain," he said. "You know I haven't a palace to offer, but you are welcome to share my poor place for one night anyway. Then we shall see."
Time passed quickly. The old planter enjoyed seeing his daughters have so happy a time, and he was not insensible to the charm of his hostess' conversation, for Mrs. Spangler had studied carefully the art of ingratiating herself with her guests. Suddenly realizing that he had probably reached the limit of the time he could spare, the Senator drew out his watch.
Spangler and her present mode of life at his first opportunity, hoping the while that his quest would reveal her to be what the Langdons considered her a widow of wealth, fashion and reserve who resided at the capital because the memories of her late husband, a former Congressman of high standing, were associated with it.
Your time is the same as mine," she added, nodding her head toward a French renaissance clock on the black marble mantel. As the hostess did this she deftly turned back the hands of the Senator's watch thirty-five minutes. "Do you care to smoke, Senator," Mrs. Spangler asked, as her guests concluded their repast, "if the young ladies do not object?"
The sentence of execution was carried into effect, and Arnold, Mudd, Spangler, and O'Laughlin were sent to the Military Prison on the Dry Tortugas. Meanwhile the victorious armies of the Union had been congregated at Washington, where they passed in review before President Johnson and General Grant, and then marched home and into history.
So reasoned Cora Spangler for the hundredth time during the last two years as she sat in her boudoir at her home. She had spent part of the day with Carolina and Hope Langdon and in the evening had attended the musicale at their house. But she had been forced to leave early owing to a severe headache. Now, after an hour or two of rest, she felt better and was about to retire.
Langdon inclined his head gratefully, and laughed. "They wouldn't be Southern girls, I reckon, if they didn't want to see a man have everything to make him happy er, I beg pardon, Mrs. Spangler, I mean, comfortable. Nobody that's your guest could be unhappy." The hostess beamed on the chivalrous Southerner.
Herold, Atzerodt and Payne were hanged on July 7; O'Laughlin, Spangler, Arnold, and Mudd were sent to the Dry Tortugas, there to be kept at hard labor in the military prison for life, save Spangler, whose term was six years. Mrs. Surratt was also found guilty and condemned to be hanged.
Langdon started to reply, when a delightfully modulated Southern voice interrupted: "Father, I've been out with Mrs. Spangler to look for some other rooms. I don't like this hotel, and I found some that I do like."
Soon it became noised all over the place that the Dartaway had been wrecked, and before they could get a mouthful to eat the three Rovers had to tell the story over and over again. "I'm sorry the biplane was wrecked, but glad you escaped," said Songbird, earnestly. He cherished his old friends as if they were brothers. "Just what I say already," cried Max Spangler, a German-American student.
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