“I wonder how large a body of redcoats there is, Dick?” Mr. Williams enquired after a few moments.
“There are about twenty of them, sir,” replied Dick promptly.
“And there are fifteen of us, counting you three young men. I guess we will be able to stand them off.”
“I should think so, sir.”
“Yes. We will leave the women and children in this sheltered spot. We will go over to near the point where the path connects with the island, and will await the coming of the enemy.”
This was done, and the settlers, rifles in hands, and Dick, Tom and Ben, who had each two pistols, were soon stationed at a vantage point near the end of the path.
Here they crouched, watching the light as it slowly approached, and presently they could make out the forms of the redcoats. They were strung out almost in single file, and were making their way very slowly, for the ground was new to them. But doubtless they had seen swamps before, and knew that it would be bad for them if they were to get off the path and into the quagmire on either side.
Closer and closer they came, and when they were within perhaps twenty yards of the point where the path joined the island, Mr. Williams called out loudly:
“Halt! Stop where you are!”
The man in the lead, carrying the torch, stopped instantly and the other redcoats followed suit. There was a brief period of silence, and then the man with the torch cried:
“So you’re there, eh?”
“Yes, we’re here,” was the reply.
“Well, we’re coming there to have a talk with you, and--”
“You will advance another step at your peril!” interrupted Mr. Williams.
“Eh?” in an amazed voice. “You don’t mean that you will show fight!”
“We certainly will show fight,” was the reply. “The best thing that you can do is to turn around and go back to the mainland.”
“Oh, but we won’t do that.”
“You will be sorry if you don’t.”
“Bosh. What can a little party of you farmers do against a force of the king’s soldiers?”
“We are almost as many as your force, we are all armed, and we know how to shoot.”
“Humph. How many are there of you?”
“There are fifteen of us.”
“Well, there are fifty in our party, so what show do you stand of fighting against us successfully.”
“I have information to the effect that there are only twenty in your party.”
This seemed to surprise the redcoats, and there was silence for a few moments, and then the leader said: “Who informed you to that effect, if I may ask?”
“That is my affair.”
“Well, your informant was mistaken. There are fifty of us, and if you try to show fight, we will kill the whole gang of you.”
“You are only twenty, and we will fight you, and will easily drive you away, too, for the reason that the path is so narrow only a few of you can approach at a time. We can shoot you down as fast as you appear at the edge of the island.”
Again there was a brief period of silence, and then the leader walked back a few paces and held a low conversation with a number of the soldiers. Then he turned and advanced to within about twenty-five yards of the edge of the island, and called out sternly:
“Will you surrender?”
“No,” was the reply.
“You had better.”
“No, you had better go back to the mainland and let us alone.”
“We are coming onto the island, and if you fire upon us, it will go hard with you.”
“We will certainly fire,” was the determined reply.
“Very well. Your blood be upon your own heads, then.”
Then the leader called to the soldiers, saying: “Follow me, men. And be ready to fire the instant I give the word.”
Perhaps he thought that this command would have the effect of frightening the patriot settlers into not firing, but if so, he was mistaken, for when the first of the party of soldiers was almost to the island, Mr. Williams cried sternly:
“Halt and turn back. If you don’t do so at once, we will fire.”
The soldiers continued to advance, and seeing they did not intend to stop, the patriot settler gave the command:
“Fire!”
Instantly the sound of a volley from the dozen rifles and the three pistols sounded on the night air, and it was evident that two or three of the British were at least wounded, for cries of pain and rage went up. One was seen to have fallen, and another was being held up by a couple of his comrades.
“Fire at the rebels, men!” roared the leader of the redcoats, and the British soldiers fired a volley, the bullets rattling above the patriots’ heads, but not doing any damage, as the members of the party had dropped flat on the ground.
Then Mr. Williams called out: “You can’t hurt us, no matter how much you shoot, and we can pick you off quickly. If you will return to the mainland and go about your business, we will not fire upon you again, but if you refuse to go, we will open fire on you, and will kill and wound a number of you.”
Evidently the leader of the party of redcoats realized that, owing to the narrowness of the path, and their inability to rush forward in a body, they could not get at the settlers to do them damage, and that it would be the part of wisdom to do as the settler said, for he called out:
“All right, we will return to the mainland. Don’t fire.”
“Very well,” replied Mr. Williams.
Then the British soldiers slowly made their way back along the path, carrying one of their comrades, and one or two assisting another. When they were out of rifle-shot distance, the leader of the party paused and yelled loudly:
“We will set up a siege at the point where the path reaches the mainland, and you will not be able to come off the island, and as soon as your provisions are exhausted, you will have to surrender.”
Then the redcoats continued their progress toward the mainland.
“If they set up a siege, it will be bad for us,” said Mr. Williams, soberly. “We have only enough food to last say two or three days.” Then they stationed a couple of their number at the end of the path, to give warning in case the redcoats should return during the night, and the others went back and rejoined the women and children and their situation was discussed with considerable seriousness.
“I don’t like the situation,” said Mr. Williams, and the others said the same.
Presently the settlers lay down and as a result of their weariness, they were soon asleep. They felt safe, as there were men on guard at the point where the path reached the island, and knew the British could not reach the island without being seen.
Next morning the subject of what should be done was taken up, and the men discussed the matter thoroughly, but could not come to any decision. Dick Dare and his two comrades had not had much to say, as they considered themselves outsiders, but when the settlers had talked an hour or so and had not come to any decision, Dick, who had been doing considerable thinking, rose and walked along the shore of the island, peering up into the trees that extended away across the swamp. Then he came back, and said to Mr. Williams: “How far is it to the mainland, in that direction,” pointing toward the north. The path by which they had come connected with the island on the east side.
“About a mile, I should judge,” replied Mr. Williams. “Why?”
“I have a plan which I think may work,” was the reply. “I notice that the trees in the swamp are rather close together, and the limbs intermingle. I believe that I can reach the shore by climbing from one treetop to another. What do you think?”
“It might be possible to do that,” was the reply. “An active young fellow like you might do it. If you should happen to fall into the bog, however, it would likely be the last that would ever be heard of you, as it is like quicksand, and sucks its victims down out of sight.”
“Well, I believe I will try it, anyhow. If I can reach the mainland, I can go to the encampment of our army and get some of the soldiers to come and drive the redcoats away, or, better still, capture them.”
“That would be splendid, if you could accomplish it,” said the settler.
“I think it worth trying,” said Dick, confidently. “I am a good climber, and believe that I can make my way from one tree to another, and thus reach the shore.”
“I’ll bet that I could, too,” said Tom, eagerly. “You stay here and let me go, Dick.”
But Dick shook his head. “I am older and stronger than you, Tom,” he said, “and as it will be a hard job working one’s way to the mainland, I prefer to make the attempt. You and Ben will stay here.”
“All right, just as you say.”
“I’ll start immediately,” determined Dick.
“You had better take some food with you,” suggested Mr. Williams. “You will find your task a hard one and you may have to go two or three miles in order to reach the shore, for you will have to work your way wherever the trees are thickest.”
“True, sir,” said Dick.
He tied up a package of food, and fastened it on his shoulder by a piece of leather string, and then, after talking to Tom and Ben a few moments, he said good-by to all the folks. Stepping to a tree that grew right at the edge of the island, climbed it, till high enough up so that the limbs were of good size and extending to those of another tree out in the swamp, and then he worked his way across into the other tree.
“Good for you,” congratulated Mr. Williams.
“That’s the way to do it, Dick,” cried Tom.
“It is going to be slow work,” replied Dick. “But I think I can reach the mainland by noon, anyway.”
Then Dick managed to get across to another tree still farther away from the island, and here he paused a few moments, to get his breath.
He talked to the settlers on the island while resting, then again began work, and by a strenuous effort succeeded in getting to another tree. From this one he reached another. Here he paused and rested again a few moments, after which he started again, and got into another tree, but one that was no farther from the island, but from that one he could reach another tree that was farther away.
“It’s work that takes muscle,” said Dick, stopping to breathe a few moments. “But thank goodness I have plenty of muscle.”
Then he began work again, and was soon in a tree that stood nearly fifty yards from the island.
Here he paused a few moments, and then set out again. When an hour had passed, he was at least a hundred yards from the island.
“Pretty tired?” called Mr. Williams.
“Oh, not so very,” was the reply. “I’ll get to the mainland, all right.”
“I sincerely hope so,” was the reply.
On went Dick, picking his way along the tree branches, and he gradually worked his way well out into the swamp. Presently he could not see the people on the island at all. And they, not being able to see him, and fearing that their voices might carry to the redcoats on the east shore, if they yelled too loudly, stopped calling to the youth who was working so hard to get to the mainland, in order to go and get the patriot soldiers and effect their rescue.
The work Dick was engaged in was strenuous to say the least. It was very trying to his muscles, but he was strong and had good staying qualities, and he kept at it, pausing once in a while to breathe a few moments and rest his tired muscles.
Slowly he worked his way out, through the tops of the trees, his life in danger, for if he were to slip and fall, he would sink deep into the quagmire, likely, and the chances were that he would be pulled down by the quicksand and smothered to death in the bog.
Dick did not stop to think of this, however. His mind was on his work, and he kept on, gradually shortening the distance to the mainland.
When he had been thus employed perhaps three hours, however, he came to a point from which it seemed impossible to reach another treetop. He paused and stood on a limb and gazed about him, keenly and searchingly. Should he go back and try some other direction?
Finally he decided that by climbing out on a limb that extended upward and outward from the tree he was in, and bending the end down, he might succeed in springing across from that limb to one on the nearest tree.
He at once put this into effect, and climbing up the limb in question till he was near the end, he threw his weight in such a manner that the limb was bent down almost to the breaking point. Still he found himself to be fully three feet from the limb on the other next nearest tree.
Now just by the force from his arms, must he throw his body across that distance, and more, for he must needs grasp the other limb at a point where it was sizable enough to bear his weight. He would make the attempt, anyway, for if he could get across this open space, the trees were close together beyond, and he would not have much difficulty in continuing the trip to the mainland.
So he began swaying his body back and forth, like a pendulum, till he got it swinging at a lively rate, and then he suddenly hurled himself through the air, letting go of the limb at the same moment, and making an effort to grasp the limb on the other tree.
He did get hold of the limb, but at a point too near the end, and the limb, being too small, slipped through his fingers and down he shot, striking the quagmire with a thud, and sinking to his knees.
An exclamation of dismay escaped Dick’s lips. He looked around him, for something to get hold of to stay his sinking into the bog, but there was nothing within reach that he could catch hold of. Not even a clump of bushes was near. He was in an open space perhaps thirty feet square, and there was no tree closer than twenty feet.
Dick then began trying to pull his legs out of the bog, but found he could not do so. The harder he worked, the faster he seemed to sink into the quagmire, and after a few moments of strenuous effort, in which he failed to loosen either limb, but in fact found each leg deeper in the bog, he desisted. His face perspiring profusely, he stood there panting for breath as a result of his strenuous exertions, and gazed about him, hoping to see some means by which he might extricate himself from the dangerous predicament in which he had fallen.
But there was nothing that seemed to offer any promise of assistance, and he began struggling again, only to desist after a few moments, realizing how foolish was the attempt, for every effort he put forth only served to sink him deeper in the boggy quicksand.
Down he sank, slowly and gradually, till he was up to his waist in the relentless and encompassing sands. Then, realizing that he was unable to extricate himself, Dick, because of his utterly helpless situation, gave vent to a despairing cry and called loudly for help.
Again and again he called, but there came no response. All remained quiet around him. There was no sign or likelihood of assistance from any source. And by now he had sunk till he was halfway from his waist to his armpits. He was held as if by giant hands, and he realized that he could not escape without assistance--and help was certainly not forthcoming.
He was held as if by giant hands.
He was held as if by giant hands.
Dick Dare had been in lots of tight places in his life, but never had he been in the danger that threatened him now. He felt that he was doomed, that he would go to a terrible, horrible death, there beneath the smothering slime of the boggy quicksand. He thought of the loved ones at home, of his brother, his comrades, and the great Cause for which he was to offer up his young life. Now he was to be blotted out and no one would ever know the awful nature of his death.
Herbert Miller, the young schoolteacher, when he heard the demand made by Hank Sprowl, felt that he was in great danger. He realized that the Tories were bad men, and that they might kill him, if they got hold of him again. And as he had a young man’s desire to live, he made up his mind not to let them get hold of him, if possible to avoid the contingency.
The room Miller was in was at the front of the house, and that was the reason he heard the words of the Tory. It was a starlight night, and stepping to the window, the teacher looked out and downward. He saw several dark forms standing before the house. There were six or seven of the scoundrels, Miller decided, and that would be too many for him to try to fight against, even with the assistance of Mr. Santon. Furthermore, as the young man had no wish to get his friends into trouble, he made up his mind that the best thing he could do would be to make his escape.
With this idea in mind, he left the front room, and made his way into a chamber at the rear. Opening the window, he looked out and about. There was no one in sight, so the young man decided that he would be able to leap to the ground and get safely away.
Climbing cautiously over the ledge, he seized hold of the window-sill and lowered himself till he hung suspended at full length. Then he relaxed his hold and dropped. He alighted on his feet all right and unhurt, and turned to leave--when around the corner rushed four of the Tories.
“Here he is!” yelled one. “Grab ’im, men.”
They dashed forward and seized Miller before he could make his escape, and although he fought desperately, he was overpowered. The rest of the gang came rushing around the corner, just as the four had gotten the better of the teacher, and his arms were quickly tied together behind his back.
They conducted him around to the front of the house, and Sprowl calling Mr. Santon to the door gave him a rough talking to. “If ever we ketch ye harborin’ or helpin’ another rebel, John Santon, we’ll drive ye out uv ther country. D’ye hear?” he said in conclusion.
“Yes, I hear,” was the reply. There was an angry look on Mr. Santon’s face, but he did not say much, for he realized that it would not take many words from him to cause the ruffians to seize him and give him a rough handling, the same as they likely intended doing with Miller. He did ask, however, what they proposed doing with the teacher.
“Oh, thet’s our bizness,” was the reply.
“We’re goin’ to try to do enuff, this time, to discourage him frum tryin’ to stay aroun’ in this part of the country, though. Ye may be sure uv thet.”
Then they set out through the woods, Miller in their midst. “Don’t worry about me, Mr. Santon,” the teacher called back over his shoulder. “They won’t dare do me serious injury.”
“Oh, won’t we, hey?” growled Sprowl. “Wai, mebby ye’ll change yer mind afore we git through with ye.”
“Oh, father, I’m afraid they’ll kill him!” half-moaned Lizzie, when the group had disappeared amid the trees.
“I don’t hardly think they will dare do that, Lizzie,” was the sober reply. “But I fear they will give him rough treatment.”
“Can’t we prevent it somehow, father?” There was great eagerness in the voice of the girl. It was evident that she was deeply moved. The fact was, that she thought a great deal of Herbert Miller. And he, on his part, thought a great deal of Lizzie Santon.
Mr. Santon shook his head. “I’m afraid we can’t, Lizzie,” he said. “There are seven of them.”
“But, we can take our rifles, and follow them, father, and if they go to injure Mr. Miller, we can shoot some of them. I can shoot as good as any man, you know, father.”
Mr. Santon hesitated a few moments, and then said: “Very well, Lizzie. We’ll follow them, and perhaps we may be able to drive them away, if they try to injure Mr. Miller. Let’s hurry, or they’ll get so far away we won’t be able to follow them.”
He seized his rifle, and the girl did the same. With a few words to Mrs. Santon, they left the house, and set out through the timber. But they had gone only about fifty yards, when a rough voice challenged them.
“Stop whar ye are!” called the voice, threateningly. “Ef ye come any furder, we’ll plug ye. Hank said as how mebby ye’d try to foller us, an’ made us stay behin’ to watch fur ye. Now, ef ye value yer lives, ye’ll turn aroun’ an’ go right back ter the house, an’ stay thar. Ye hear?”
“We may as well go back, Lizzie,” said her father. “They’ll shoot us if we try to follow now.”
“Thet’s what we will, Santon. Ye’re talkin’ sense. Git back to ther house, now, an’ stay thar. Ef ye come out ag’in, we’ll shoot furst an’ mebby talk arterwards.”
“Come, Lizzie,” said Mr. Santon, sadly, and they turned and went back to the house.
“Sprowl left a couple of his men to watch and prevent us from following,” explained Mr. Santon to his wife, and Lizzie, with tears of disappointment in her eyes, went up to her room.
In the meantime, Sprowl and four of his companions--he had, as we know, left two men behind to watch Santon’s house--made their way onward till they had gone about two miles, and then they came to a log cabin in a hollow. There was a thick growth of trees and many clumps of bushes all around, which would make it difficult for a chance passerby to see the cabin, even though his path led within a short distance of it.
Here the ruffians stopped, and Sprowl ordered that Miller be stripped to the waist.
“We giv’ ye a coat uv tar an’ feathers, ther other time,” he said, “but this time we’re goin’ to give ye ther blamedest lickin’ ye ever got in your life. Tie ’im to that tree, boys.” The last words to his men, who had already quickly divested the teacher of his clothing, and he stood there, naked to the waist.
“You will be sorry for this, Hank Sprowl!” said Miller. “You had better not commit this outrage.”
“Shut up,” was the brief reply. “Ye’re goin’ ter git a lickin’ ye’ll remember to yer dyin’ day, an’ then ye’ hev twenty-four hours to leave ther country in. Get the switches, men, an’ begin.”
A bundle of switches was produced from the nearby cabin, and a couple of the ruffians took each a heavy switch, several feet in length. Stationing themselves on either side of their intended victim, they lifted the switches and held them poised, waiting for the word from Sprowl to strike.
“Ready?” said Sprowl. “Go ahead. Give ’im a lickin’ thet’ll last ’im a lifetime.”
Herbert Miller set his teeth and waited.
Soon after Dick, Tom and Ben left the patriot encampment, to go in search of the British army under General Arnold, Tim and Fritz got to discussing the matter, and they decided that they could do some good work in that line also.
“Vy can’t ve go und make un efford to find der retgoads, Tim?” was Fritz’s query.
“Sure an’ there’s no reason why we can’t, Dootchy,” said Tim. “An’ it’s mesilf has a good moind to go an’ ask the captain to let us go an’ look fur the ridcoats.”
“Yah, go und ask him, Tim,” urged Fritz, eagerly. “I vould lige to go on such a trip as dot, und verily dot is so.”
So Tim, thus backed up, asked Captain Morgan to let him and Fritz go in search of the encampment of the redcoats.
“Why, the Dare boys and Ben Foster have just gone to do that,” said the captain.
“Yis, but there is no tellin’ what direction to go to foind the ridcoats, captain,” said Tim, “an’ we can go a different directions an’ mebby will foind the encampment av the inimy before the other byes do.”
“Oh, well, you may go, then,” laughed the captain, “but be careful, and don’t get captured yourself.”
“We’ll be careful, captain, sure an’ we will.”
“Very well.”
Tim thanked the captain, hastened back and reported his success to Fritz, who was delighted. They made prompt preparations, and a few minutes later they set out.
They started in a different direction from that taken by the boys, but Tim and Fritz were not very good at woodcraft, and gradually their course was changed, till finally unwittingly they were following almost in the steps of the three youths. They supposed, agreeable to their proposal, that they were going in an entirely different direction.
Thus it happened that Tim and Fritz came to the top of the ridge, from which the three youths had seen the camp of the party of redcoats, and reaching there about an hour after the youths had left. They stopped to rest, and soon caught sight of the redcoats, in the same manner as the youths had done.
They were greatly excited at once. “Sure an’ we’ve found thim alriddy!” exclaimed Tim.
“Yah, dot is so,” agreed Fritz. “But dere are not many dere, Tim. Dis is not der big encampment.”
“Ye are roight, Fritz. This is a small party thot is out on a foraging expedition, loikely.”
“Ve must sby on dem, Tim, und find ouid vot dey are doin’ here,” said Fritz.
“Roight ye are, me bye. An’ it’s Tim Murphy can do thot worruk, sure an’ it is.”
“Ah righd. You go und do dot vork, Tim. I vill sday here und be ready to gome to your assistance if you ged into drubble, already.”
“Thot’s all roight. Here Oi go, Fritz.”
Then Tim moved slowly and cautiously forward, heading for the encampment of the redcoats.
He was not so skillful at this kind of work as was Dick Dare, but he did pretty well in this instance, and by going very slowly, he managed to get over the ground without making much noise.
Closer and closer crept Tim, and finally he came to a stop behind a tree about fifty yards from the encampment. He could hear what the redcoats said, but they were talking about matters of no particular interest, and Tim did not learn of their intention of plundering and burning the patriot settlement.
Tim saw that there was only a small party of the redcoats, and realizing that this was only a detachment from Arnold’s army, he decided to return to where he had left Fritz, and they would go on their way and try to find the main encampment.
So he turned and slipped back in the direction from which he had come, and when he neared the top of the ridge and looked for his comrade, he greatly to his surprise did not see him. Tim supposed Fritz was seated behind a tree, however, and thought nothing of it, but when he reached the point where he had left the Dutch youth, sure as fate Fritz was not there.
Tim looked all around, in surprise. Nowhere could he see Fritz. Glancing toward the redcoat camp, and deciding that they would not hear him, he sounded a signal that they often used to notify one of the other’s whereabouts.
Then he listened, but did not hear any reply. Again he gave the signal, with the same result.
“Where has Dootchy gone, Oi wondther,” muttered Tim, scratching his head. “Sure, an’ he’s so big thot av he was innywheres aroun’ here Oi ought to be able to see him.”
He looked in all directions, carefully, searchingly, but Fritz was not to be seen, which was very puzzling, and Tim did not understand it at all.
“Thot does bate all,” murmured Tim. “What shall Oi do? Shall Oi stay here, or go in search av him?”
This was a problem, and Tim sat down, the better to figure it out.
He was sitting there, his back against a tree, trying to determine where Fritz could be, when suddenly there was a rustling and scratching sound above him, and then something hit him on the head and shoulders, knocking him to the ground and almost stunning him.
Nevertheless Tim scrambled up hastily, and was greatly amazed to see his comrade, Fritz, lying on his back on the ground a few yards distant, blinking up at the sky as if dazed. An exclamation of anger and amazement escaped the Irish soldier’s lips.
“Fritz, ye Dutch rascal, ye, where did ye drop from, innyhow?” he cried.
Fritz blinked a few more times, and then slowly rose to a sitting posture, looked at Tim, grinned somewhat sheepishly, and then said: “From der dreetop, Tim.”
“Oh, ye fell out av the tree, did ye?” the Irish soldier remarked.
“Yah,” nodded the Dutchman. “I vos glimbin’ down, alretty, an’ my hold slipped und down I fell kerthump.”
“I should say ye did. Ye fell kerthump on top av me head, sure an’ ye did. Why didn’t ye tell me ye was comin’?”
“I didn’t think uf dot, Tim,” was the reply. “Und I’m sorriness dot I bumped you.”
“What was ye doin’ up in the tree?”
“I vos loogin’ around. I thought dot I mighd see der big camp uf der retgoads.”
“Well, did ye?”
Fritz shook his head. “No, I saw only der trees und timber,” he said.
“Well, what shall we do now? Go an’ look for the big camp of the ridcoats?”
“Vot do you say to stayin’ und keepin’ watch on dese retgoads till after dark, Tim?” said Fritz. “Maybe dey vill go to der big engampment, und den ve gan follow dem.”
“Sure an’ thot’s a good oidea, Fritz. We’ll do thot.”
Tim and Fritz settled down and made themselves as comfortable as possible, and waited patiently for the coming of darkness. They trusted that the redcoats would make some kind of move by that time, and they hoped and believed that the move would be in the direction of the main encampment of the British.
The two had brought some food with him, and when evening came, they ate a bite, after which they took turns going down and getting a drink at a little creek at the foot of the ridge.
As soon as dusk overspread the scene, they stole down closer to the encampment, and took up their station behind trees within fifty yards of the redcoats. They could hear the spoken words of the soldiers now, and heard them talking of going to a patriot settlement, of plundering it and burning the houses.
“So thot’s what they are afther doin’, eh?” muttered Tim. “Well, it’s mean spalpanes they are, an’ thot’s a fact.”
“Yah,” replied Fritz, cautiously. “Dot vos been a pretty mean vork vot dey are planning to do, alretty.”
“Let’s slip aroun’ an’ thry to get to the settlement an’ warn the patriots, Fritz,” whispered Tim.
“All righd, ve vill do dot.”
They were just about to start, when the redcoats suddenly broke camp--all they had to do was to pick up their muskets and start--and set out through the woods. Naturally exclamations of disappointment and dismay escaped the lips of the two.
“Dey’re goin’ to der settlement now!” exclaimed Fritz.
“Yis. Well, let’s follow thim. Mebby we can do somethin’ to hilp the patriots.”
“Maybe so, Tim. Ve vill see abouid dot, anyhow.”
So they followed the party of redcoats, keeping about two hundred yards behind them, and after a walk of about a mile and a half, they paused at the edge of a clearing of perhaps a hundred acres, and at the farther side could be seen the houses of the settlers.
What struck Tim and Fritz as queer was the fact that they could not see any lights in any of the houses, and this fact may have been noticed by the redcoats, for they hastened forward at a swifter pace.
“Looks loike there ain’t any people at home, Dootchy,” said Tim.
“Dot is der vay id loogs to me, Tim,” was the reply.
“Oi hope thot is the case.”
“Yah, so do I.”
Feeling that they would be safe in doing so, Tim and Fritz followed the redcoats, though staying farther behind than when they were in the timber, for even in the dusk they were more likely to be seen out here in the open. The redcoats had their attention centered on the cluster of houses, however, and were not likely to look behind them, so the two felt that they probably would not be seen.
They were not more than a hundred yards behind the redcoats when the latter reached the houses. Tim and Fritz stopped and now lay down on the ground, and watched and listened.
They saw lights appear in the houses presently, and heard the voices of the redcoats raised in tones of seeming anger. Tim chuckled and said:
“They seem to be disappointed, Dootchy, me bye.”
“Yah, dot is der vay id seems, Tim,” was the reply.
“Looks loike the settlers found out thot the ridcoats was comin’ an’ slipped away, hey?”
“Yah, dot seems to be der vay uf id.”
“Let’s move up closer, Dootchy.”
“Allrighd.”
They rose to their feet and approached the cluster of houses, and on reaching the nearest one, they peered in at the window. There were two or three redcoats in the room, in which there was little furniture or household goods of any description, and the British soldiers were talking and gesticulating angrily.
“Der settlers moved ouid und took der important goods mit dem,” whispered Fritz.
“So it would seem, Fritz,” was the reply.
Then they went to the next house and looked in, and the scene there was practically the same as at the other house. After looking through the window a few moments, the two went to the next house, and found the same situation there.
“The settlers all got away before the ridcoats got here, an’ they took their valuable goods wid thim,” said Tim.
“Yah, und der retgoads are pretty mad, alretty,” replied Fritz.
“Thot’s what they are, an’ av they lay oyes on us, it’ll go hard wid us, Fritz, me bye.”
“Dot is so. But ve must not let dem see us.”
Just at this moment some redcoats emerged from the house beyond where the two soldiers stood, and they were talking excitedly.
“They’ve gone into the swamp, that’s certain,” the two heard one of the redcoats say. “And we’ll follow them. We’ll have that plunder, in spite of the trick they have played. We’ll follow them into the swamp.”
Tim and Fritz dropped to the ground, close beside the building, and remained there till the redcoats had come forth from the houses and had all set out in a direction which the two supposed led to the swamp, and then they rose and followed.
“We’ll kape afther thim, me bye,” said Tim.
“Yah, ve vill do dot, Tim, und maybe ve gan do somedings to help der settlers, alretty.”
They followed the redcoats to the edge of the swamp, and remained concealed till the British soldiers lighted a torch and set out along the tortuous path into the swamp. Then they sat down, to wait and discuss the situation.
“There’s goin’ to be a foight over in the swamp, Dootchy, an’ we won’t be in it,” said Tim, regretfully.
“Yah,” agreed Fritz. “I vould lige to take a hand in dot fighd, but ve gouldn’t keep on der path in der dark, alretty.”
“No, we’ll have to stay here an’ wait till the ridcoats come back, Oi guiss,” said Tim.
They had been sitting there perhaps ten or fifteen minutes, watching the torch carried by the leader of the British force bobbing about in the swamp, when they suddenly heard voices right near them. The next moment they saw several dark forms making their way through the timber. The two listened to the conversation of the strangers, and learned that they were Tories, on their way to the home of a patriot, one John Santon, who, it seemed, had taken into his home a patriot school-teacher, after the latter had been given a coat of tar and feathers.
The Tories were going to take the teacher out, give him a whipping, and then give him twenty-four hours to get out of that part of the country.
The Tories were walking at a slow pace, and so the two patriots gained the above information before the party was out of hearing.
“Sure, an’ what do ye say to followin’ thim rascals an’ thryin’ to spoil their game, Fritz?” asked Tim.
“I think dot is der thing to do, Tim,” was the reply. “Der retgoads vill not be back here for a long while, und ve can’t do anything to dena when dey do come, for dere are too many uf dem.”
“Roight ye are, an’ mebby we can help the fellow what thim rapscallions are talkin’ av takin’ out an’ whippin’.”
“Mebby so, Tim. Ve vill try id, uf you say so.”
“Well, Oi do say so. Let’s follow thim, me bye.”
So they rose, promptly set out on the trail of the Tories, and were soon close enough to them to hear their conversation. As it was pretty dark, there was not much danger of their being discovered.
When the Tories reached the Santon home, and knocked on the door, Tim and Fritz were close at hand. They listened to the conversation between Santon and the Tories, and when the school-teacher was captured and the Tories started away, with him in their midst, Tim and Fritz moved away through the woods, keeping the party under observation. When they came upon the cabin in the gully, they guessed that this might be the spot the Tories were aiming for. So they stationed themselves behind trees near the end of the cabin, awaiting the approach of the party.
The two patriots watched the Tories, who had lighted a torch, so as to see how to do the work they intended doing. When they saw the ruffians tie their prisoner to a tree, after stripping him to the waist, and one on either side with a heavy switch in his hand, get ready to administer a whipping, Tim and Fritz decided that they would not stand there and be witnesses to such an affair. There were only five of the ruffians, and as the two had each two pistols, they believed they could drive the Tories away.
Tim whispered instructions to Fritz, both drew their pistols, and just as the two ruffians with the switches were about to strike, the patriots fired their pistols.
Both the bullets took effect. The patriots had not tried to kill, but they wanted to wound the Tories, and succeeded. They had aimed at the two who were holding the switches, and at the sound of the reports the two ruffians uttered exclamations of pain and amazement. Dropping the switches, they staggered away from their intended victim.
“Foire ag’in, comrades, an’ thin charge the spalpanes!” cried Tim at this instant, and firing the other two pistols, they succeeded in wounding Sprowl, whose howl of pain was loud and prolonged. Then the ruffians all hastened away, the two that were not injured running swiftly ahead, while the others traveled as fast as they could.
“Afther thim!” yelled Tim, loudly, to add to the fright of the fleeing Tories, but in a low voice to Fritz he said: “Don’t follow thim. We’ve got thim running, an’ so let thim go. We’ll set this poor chap free.”
He stepped to the spot and cut the rope binding Miller to the tree. The teacher was grateful to his new found friends and thanked the two heartily. “You have done me a great kindness,” he said, “and I appreciate it, I assure you. Those ruffians would have given me a terrible beating had you not intervened.”
“They looked capable av doin’ thot, sir,” said Tim.
“Yah, dey vos mean-loogin’ fellers, und dot is so,” said Fritz.
“Yes, those same scoundrels gave me a coat of tar and feathers this afternoon,” continued Miller. “But they were not satisfied with that, it seems, but wanted to give me a beating.”
“Well, we gave thim a little somethin’ to remimber this affair by, Oi’m thinkin’,” chuckled Tim.
“I’m glad you did. And, now, who are you, if I may ask, and where are you from? I don’t think you live in this part of the country.”
“We are soldiers,” said Fritz. “Ve belong mit der army.”
“I didn’t know there was a patriot army in this part of the country,” said Miller.
“We just got here,” explained Tim. “There is a rigimint, an’ it is encamped about twinty miles from here.”
“Ve haf come down here to fighd Arnold,” said Fritz.
“That is good. He has been causing the patriots a lot of trouble since he came down into Virginia.”
“Thot is what we have understood,” said Tim, “An’ we have seen some av their work, already.”
“How is that?” with an air of interest.
“Well, ye know there is a patriot sittlemint a couple av moiles from here, av coorse.”
“Yes. What about it?”
“Why, a party av about twenty ridcoats wint there, this avenin’, intendin’ to rob the sittlers an’ burn the houses, but whin they got there, the sittlers were all gone, an’ had taken their household goods wid thim.”
“Ah, they must have been warned of the approach of the redcoats. I am glad of that.”
“Yis, an’ they wint into a swamp thot is about a moile or so from the sittlemint.”
“Ah, they will likely be safe there.”
“Ve ain’d so sure abouid dot,” said Fritz. “Der retgoads haf followed der settlers into der swamp.”
“You don’t say so!” exclaimed Miller. “That is bad.”
“Yis, so it is,” agreed Tim. “Fritz an’ mesilf were goin’ to stay at the place where the path inters the swamp, an’ wait till the ridcoats came out, an’ learn what success they had, but thot party av Tories came past, an’ we heard thim talkin’ about givin’ a rebel school-teacher a whippin’, an’ so, thinkin’ we could mebby do more good by followin’ thim, we did so.”
“And I’m glad you did. But, supposing we go to the point where the path enters the swamp? The redcoats are likely not back out of the swamp yet, and--”
At this moment the sound of musket-shots came to their hearing, and Tim exclaimed “They’re foightin’, now!”