WITH WASHINGTON AT VALLEY FORGEBy W. Bert Foster
By W. Bert Foster
The story opens in the year 1777, during one of the most critical periods of the Revolution. Hadley Morris, our hero, is in the employ of Jonas Benson, the host of the Three Oaks, a well-known inn on the road between Philadelphia and New York. Like most of his neighbors, Hadley is an ardent sympathizer with the American cause. When, therefore, he is intrusted with a message to be forwarded to the American headquarters, the boy gives up, for the time, his duties at the Three Oaks and sets out for the army. Here he remains until after the fateful Battle of Brandywine. On the return journey he discovers a party of Tories who have concealed themselves in a woods in the neighborhood of his home. By approaching cautiously to the group around the fire, Hadley overhears their plan to attack his uncle for the sake of the gold which he is supposed to have concealed in his house.
The story opens in the year 1777, during one of the most critical periods of the Revolution. Hadley Morris, our hero, is in the employ of Jonas Benson, the host of the Three Oaks, a well-known inn on the road between Philadelphia and New York. Like most of his neighbors, Hadley is an ardent sympathizer with the American cause. When, therefore, he is intrusted with a message to be forwarded to the American headquarters, the boy gives up, for the time, his duties at the Three Oaks and sets out for the army. Here he remains until after the fateful Battle of Brandywine. On the return journey he discovers a party of Tories who have concealed themselves in a woods in the neighborhood of his home. By approaching cautiously to the group around the fire, Hadley overhears their plan to attack his uncle for the sake of the gold which he is supposed to have concealed in his house.
THE words Brace Alwood uttered were enough to rivet Hadley to the spot, and, almost within a long arm reach of the men lounging about the fire, he crouched and listened to the dialogue which followed. The reason stated by Brace for the presence of the Tories in this place naturally startled and horrified Ephraim Morris’s nephew. When the old man was well-known to be a strong Royalist, why should these fellows be plotting to attack him? At once Hadley was sure that they were after the money which rumor said Miser Morris kept concealed in his house.
Remembering the incident of the night at his uncle’s house, Hadley doubted if the men would gain what they hoped for; but Uncle Ephraim was old and alone, and there was no telling what these rough fellows might do to gain their ends.
“You’d better make sure the old man is alone, Alwood,” suggested one of the others, as Brace and his younger brother took seats in the circle around the fire. “There used to be a boy with Miser Morris—his nevvy, was it?—who might make us trouble.”
Brace Alwood laughed harshly. “We ought to be a match for an old man and a boy, I reckon—though Lon, here, tells me Had Morris is pretty sharp.”
“He made me and Black Sam pole him across the river one night when he was carrying dispatches to the army,” Lon admitted. “An’ he pretty near broke my arm just before he left these parts last, too.”
“What army was he carrying dispatches to?” demanded the first speaker.
“Washington’s, of course.”
“But the old man is for the king, you say—worse luck!”
“That doesn’t say the boy is,” Brace remarked. “He’s a perky lad, I reckon.”
“He may do us harm, then—in slipping away and rousin’ the farmers, I mean.”
“He’s with the army now,” said Lon.
“And there’s nobody with the old man?”
“Not a soul.”
“Well, we’ll likely have an easy time of it. If he’s got as much as they say hid away in the house, this night’s work will pay us fine.”
“And settle some old scores, too,” added Brace. “Colonel Knowles will be revenged on the old scoundrel, I reckon.”
“Ah! I remember what you told us,” said the first man, thoughtfully. “His Honor is too loyal a man to appear in this matter, though, I take it?”
Brace laughed shortly. “No doubt—no doubt. He comes here to get something out of Miser Morris; but the old fox gives nothing away—not him!”
Hadley had heard enough to assure him that the Tories were actually going to attack his uncle, Royalist though he was. With silent tread he crept away from the place, crossed the pasture to the road, and getting on Black Molly’s back, sent her flying toward the inn. He was fearful for Uncle Ephraim’s safety, but it was useless for him to ride and warn the old man. He must arouse the farmers—or such of them as were at home—and bring a band to oppose the men with Brace Alwood. There would be some lack of enthusiasm, however, when it was learned that the Tory renegades were attacking one of their own kind; it was a case of “dog eat dog,” and most of the neighbors would scarce care if the old man was robbed.
But Hadley rode swiftly toward the Three Oaks Inn, determined to raise a rescuing party at all hazard. It was evening and the men usually centered there to hear the news and talk over the war and kindred topics, and the boy was quite confident of getting some help. Besides, what he had heard while lying hidden in the grove made him believe that Colonel Creston Knowles was partly the cause of this cowardly attack by the Tories upon Uncle Ephraim, and if the British officer was still at the inn the boy determined that he should not go unpunished for instigating the crime.
The American farmers about the inn had borne with the British officer more because he was Jonas Benson’s guest than aught else. Before being sent by Lafe Holdness on this last errand to the army, Hadley knew that many of the neighbors spoke threateningly of the British officer, who, apparently, knew no fear even in an enemy’s country. If they should be stirred up now, after the disaster to the American forces, when feeling would be sure to run high, Colonel Knowles would find himself in very dangerous quarters. For the moment Hadley did not think of the danger to Mistress Lillian. He was only anxious for his uncle’s safety and enraged at Colonel Knowles for the part he believed the officer had in the plot to rob—and perhaps injure—the farmer.
In an hour, so Brace Alwood said, they would attack the lonely homestead of the man whom the whole countryside believed to be a miser. Hadley had good reason to know that his uncle was possessed of much wealth, whether rightfully or not did not enter into the question now; but the money was no longer in the house—of that he was confident. Enraged at not finding it, the Tories might seriously injure Ephraim Morris. With these tumultuous thoughts filling his brain, the boy rode into the inn yard, let Black Molly find her old stall herself, and was on the steps of the inn before those in the kitchen had time to open the door, aroused though they had been by the rattle of the mare’s hoofs.
“It’s a courier!” cried some one. “What’s the news?”
“It’s that Hadley Morris!” exclaimed Mistress Benson, showing little cordiality in her welcome. Jonas was not in evidence, and there was no other men in the kitchen.
“Where is Master Benson, madam?” demanded Hadley of the innkeeper’s wife. “I want him to help me—and all other true men in the neighborhood. There is a party of Tories up the road yonder, and they are going to attack Uncle Ephraim’s house and rob him this very night.”
“Tories!” gasped the maids.
“King’s men!” exclaimed Mistress Benson. “And why should they wish to plague Master Morris, Hadley? He is loyal.”
“That Brace Alwood is at their head. They are bent on robbery. Nobody will be safe now, if they overrun the country. Where is Master Benson, I say?”
“He is gone to Trenton,” declared one of the frightened women. “There is no man here but Colonel Knowles’ servant.”
“Then he is here yet?” cried the boy, and pushing through the group of women, he entered the long hall which ran through the inn from the kitchen to the main entrance. His coming had evidently disturbed the guests. Colonel Knowles stood in the hall by the parlor door, a candlestick held above his head that the light might be cast along the passage, his daughter, clinging to his sleeve, stood behind him.
“Whom have we here?” demanded the British officer.
“It is Hadley Morris, father!” exclaimed the girl, first to recognize the youth.
Hadley approached without fear, for his indignation was boundless. “It is I, Colonel Knowles,” he said, his voice quivering with anger. “I have come back just in time to find that, unable to bring my uncle to such terms as you thought right, you have set Brace Alwood and his troop of villainous Tories upon the old man. But I tell you, sir, I will arouse the neighborhood, and if Uncle Ephraim is injured, you shall be held responsible!”
The officer took a stride forward and seized the boy by the arm. He waved the crowd of women back. “Return to your work!” he commanded. “Mistress Benson, call William.” Then he said to Hadley: “Master Morris, step into the parlor here and tell me what you mean. I am in the dark.”
Hadley began to think that perhaps he had been too hasty in his judgment. He stepped within the room. He did not speak to the officer’s daughter, but she stared at him with wide open, wondering eyes. Then in a few sentences he told how he had discovered the plot against his uncle.
“Who are these Alwoods?” demanded the Colonel, when he had finished.
“Alonzo Alwood is the boy who came here once to see you, father,” Lillian interposed, before Hadley could reply. “Do you not remember? He told you that Master Morris was about to carry dispatches to Mr. Washington again, and asked you to help stop him in his journey.”
“Ah!” exclaimed Hadley. “He did try to halt me. But your servant, sir, stopped him. Have I to thank—?”
“Mistress Lillian, sir,” said the Colonel, shortly, but a smile quivered about his mouth. “I am in the enemy’s country, as you advised me once, Master Morris, and I would not be a party to the young man’s plan. So this Brace Alwood is his brother?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And they connect my name with their raid upon that—that old man?”
“They do, sir.”
“Then to prove to you, Master Morris, that I am not in their confidence, or they in mine, I will ride back with you.” At the instant the man-servant entered. “William, saddle my horse and one of the bays for yourself—instantly! I will join you at once, Master Morris. If you have other men in the neighborhood on whom you can depend in this emergency, arouse them.”
Hadley, feeling that his impulsiveness had caused him to accuse Colonel Knowles wrongfully, ran out again without a word. While William, as silent as ever, saddled the officer’s black charger and another animal for himself, the boy took the saddle off Black Molly and threw it upon one of the other horses in the stable. Then he clattered over to the nearest neighbor’s house and routed out the family. But the only men folk at home were two half-grown boys, and when their mother learned that there were Tories in the neighborhood she refused to allow them to leave her and the younger children. So he rode on to the next homestead and brought back with him to the inn but one man to join the party. Colonel Knowles and his servant were awaiting their coming in the road before the door of the Three Oaks.
“Lead on, Master Morris!” commanded the officer. “You know the way by night better than I.”
“But there are only four of us,” began Hadley, doubtfully.
“We can wait for no more if what you have told me is true. They will be attacking the old man by now.”
The quartette rode off at a gallop and little was said until they turned into the farm path which led through the pastures and fields to the Morris homestead. Then the neighbor was riding nearest Hadley’s side and he whispered: “Hey, Morris, suppose this should be a trap? Suppose the Britisher should be playing us false?”
Hadley tapped the butt of the pistol beneath his coat. “Then he’ll get what’s in this first—and do you take William,” the boy whispered. “But I do not believe Colonel Knowles will play us false. These Tory blackguards are nothing to him.”
The ring of the horses’ hoofs announced their coming before they were within shot of the house, around which the rascals under Brace Alwood had assembled. But no shots were fired, for Colonel Knowles was ahead and his mount was recognized by Lon in the light of the huge bonfire which had been built in front of the farmer’s door. Part of the Tories were already inside the house, ransacking the dwelling from cellar to garret, while Ephraim was tied hard and fast to one of his own chairs, and Brace Alwood, with cruel delight in the farmer’s terror, was threatening to hold the old man’s feet in the flames on the hearth if he did not divulge the hiding place of his gold. Colonel Knowles’ coming struck the entire party of marauders dumb.
“What are you doing here, you scoundrels?” exclaimed the officer, almost riding into the farmhouse in his rage, and laying about him with the riding whip he carried.
The men shrank away in confusion. Even Brace Alwood, the bully, was cowed. “The old miser’s got more money than is good for him,” whined Alwood. “And his nephew is off with the rebels—”
“Sirrah!” exclaimed the colonel, sharply. “Here is his nephew with me. And it matters not what his nephew may be, in any case; the man himself is for King George, God bless him!—or so I understand.”
“Yes, yes, Master!” squealed the farmer from the chair where he was tied. “I am for the king. I told these villains I was for the king. It is an outrage. I cannot help what my rascally nephew is—I am loyal.”
“And as for his money,” continued the colonel, savagely, “you’d work hard and long before you got any of it—and what you got would likely not be his, but belong to those whom he has robbed!” At that Uncle Ephraim recognized his rescuer, and he relapsed into frightened silence. “Come out of that house and go about your business!” commanded the officer. “Let me not find any of you in this neighborhood in the morning; and think not I shall forget this escapade. Your colonel shall hear of it, Alwood.”
Somebody released the farmer from his uncomfortable position, and he followed the bushwhackers to the door, bemoaning his fate. The men clattered out and, evidently fearing the power of Colonel Knowles, hurried away toward the river. When Uncle Ephraim saw his woodpile afire, he rushed out and began pulling from the flames such sticks as had only been charred, or were burning at one end, all the time railing at the misfortune that had overtaken him. The neighbor looked on a minute and then said, brusquely:
“I’ve little pity in my heart for such as you, neighbor Morris—a man that will take sides against his country.”
“And I’ve little pity for you, either,” Colonel Knowles declared, when the first speaker had ridden away, “for you are a dishonest old villain!”
He and William wheeled their horses and followed the bridle path back to the highway; but Hadley, much troubled by what he had heard, remained to help put out the fire in the woodpile. His uncle did not speak to him, however, but when the last spark was quenched by the water which the boy brought from the well, he went into the house and, fairly shutting the door in his nephew’s face, locked and barred it!
“Well!” muttered Hadley, “I don’t need a kick to follow that hint that my company’s not wanted,” and he rode back to the inn, feeling very sorrowful. Evidently his uncle was angry with him. But more than all else was he troubled by the words he had heard Colonel Knowles address to Ephraim Morris. The British officer had broadly intimated that the farmer was a thief!
On his return to the inn he was so tired that he did not think of supper, and, instead of going into the house, tumbled into his couch in the loft and dropped to sleep almost instantly. The next morning Master Benson did not arrive, and the mistress of the inn met Hadley with a very sour face and berated him well for the manner in which he had burst in upon her guests the night before.
“You are spending more than half your time with Washington’s ragamuffin army,” quoth she; “you’d better stay with them altogether. I cannot have my guests disturbed and troubled by such as you.”
Hadley was inclined to take her berating good-naturedly, for he knew at heart that she was a kindly woman, and that, when Jonas was at home, she would not dare talk so. But she had really engaged a neighbor to perform his tasks, and, learning that Jonas was not expected back for a week or more, Hadley saw that it was going to be very unpleasant for him in the neighborhood meanwhile. Even his uncle did not care for his company, and he could not eat the bread of idleness at the Three Oaks Inn. There were three or four men starting to join Washington’s forces, and he determined to accompany them, sorry now that he had returned at all.
He did not feel at liberty to take one of the Bensons’ horses this time, and so started afoot for the vicinity of Philadelphia. The roads were full of refugee families, and, although he could not learn of any real battle having been fought, the country people had evidently lost all hope of Washington staying the advance of the British. Hadley and his comrades traveled briskly, reaching the vicinity of Warren’s Inn early on the morning of the 16th and joined General Wayne’s forces just as the downpour of rain which spoiled the operations of that day began.