IN WHICH GENERAL PUTNAM HAS HIS SAY
“It is a matter of importance, then?” said George, as he walked along
at the horse’s side, his face now pointed in the direction of the fort.
“I should hazard that it is of unusual importance,” returned the
ensign; “though I have not the faintest knowledge of its nature.”
A few minutes’ brisk traveling and they reached the headquarters;
George was at once admitted to the room where he had previously spoken
to General Putnam.
The latter was still there, as was General Sullivan, and with them was
an artillery captain who was talking volubly and with much excitement.
But as George entered he ceased, at a sign from General Putnam.
“Prentiss,” said Putnam, after a moment’s pause, during which he
studied the young New Englander carefully, “I have several times had
occasion to benefit by your service in somewhat venturesome matters.
And now,” here he bent forward a trifle, his hands upon the table in
front of him, “that an occasion has arisen, I can offer you another
service, which while it may not prove dangerous, seems sufficiently
interesting to occupy a youth of your inches for some little time.
Would you care to undertake it?”
“That you think it necessary that the thing be done is enough for me,”
replied George.
“That is an excellent answer,” said Putnam, his big, round face
beaming. “There are, no doubt,” he proceeded, and he glanced at General
Sullivan as though in explanation, “numbers of young men in every
branch of the service here in New York who could bring this matter
to a highly successful issue. But as I am not acquainted with their
individual merits, I might make a sad mistake in trying to select the
proper one. Here,” and he nodded toward George, “is one of whom I have
personal knowledge. That is why I have preferred him.”
The others signified that the reason appealed to them as being a
perfectly just one.
There was a short pause. General Putnam seemed to be marshaling his
thoughts together; then he said, addressing George:
“New York has been most difficult to control in the present crisis;
there were many Tories about Boston, but here they number fully half
the population. And their numbers make them dangerous. We have seized
upon the persons of the most aggressive of them; but in spite of this
a steady opposition continues to be made to everything we do. If this
were openly done, it would be a simple matter. But it is carried on
secretly. Information of some of our most intimate designs, so we have
discovered, is regularly had by our enemies. Our troops are being
corrupted; our stores and magazines are in real danger of destruction.
“Of late this Tory system seems to have selected our posts upon the
Highlands for especial attention,” proceeded Putnam, and the artillery
officer pursed his lips and wrinkled his brow as though in agreement.
“Nothing, mind you, is definitely known, but there is a feeling
among us all that our work is in some way being steadily undermined.
Recruiting has been brought almost to a standstill because we have
become convinced that many of those offering themselves have other
motives than the preservation of our liberties.
“To-day Captain Hall unearthed some traces of what might possibly
be a plot. But I am sorry to say that what he has discovered is not
of sufficient directness to warrant our arresting any one. However,
it affords us a most excellent beginning for a counter system of
espionage; and that is what we have concluded to organize. It is well
at first, though, to make no ornate attempts upon them; a modest
beginning may bring much better results.”
“The fact that you are unknown in these parts is of some value,” spoke
General Sullivan.
Putnam nodded.
“What we have learned shows that stranger recruits are more apt to be
approached by the secret agents of the Tories than those known in New
York and of settled local convictions,” said he. “And that, as General
Sullivan wisely remarks, has value. What we propose is that you make
your way to Harlem Heights, say to-morrow, spend a day or two in
idling about in a desultory, unattached sort of way. Then go through
the form of enlistment with Captain Hall, here, and after that follow
up any track that circumstance leads you upon.”
“If you have any facts for me,” said George, “I will take them now; and
to-morrow I will do as you suggest.”
“These papers,” said General Putnam, taking up a slim packet, “contain
all the information that we have upon the subject. Take them into that
room,” pointing to a small inner apartment, “and study them. But commit
nothing to writing that might betray you, if found.”
George took the packet and entered the room indicated; seating himself
at a window he began to examine the writings, document by document.
However, they yielded no great amount of data, being largely the names
of suspected persons and their places of resort. Carefully he read
down the list, thinking to come upon something that would give him a
handhold.
“The sloop ‘Shark,’ Nathan Parks, master, suspected of carrying
information to the British frigates,” met his eye without much meaning.
“Corporal Bacon of the artillery, thought to be in the pay of the
Loyalists.
“Thomas Friend, a peddler, and said to be a spy in the pay of Governor
Colden.
“Ann Jane Trout, landlady of the ‘Wheat Sheaf,’ an inn long suspected
of being the gathering place of the enemies of popular rights.
“The ‘Wheat Sheaf,’” said George, his mind at once focusing upon this
name. “That is the place that Merchant Dana directed me to.” He gazed
reflectively at the paper for a moment and gradually a smile came into
his face. “At nine to-morrow night he specified, I think. I had not
thought to go there; but now,” and here the smile grew broader and
a sparkle began to dance in his eyes, “well, now it promises to be
different, for something may be gained by it.”
Earnestly he scanned the documents. Traces of suspected plots were
recorded, especially the one which Captain Hall had come upon the
day before. For the most part they seemed the stories of imaginative
persons, lacking all the vital points of convincing evidence.
“And yet,” mused George, “where there is much smoke, there may be some
fire.” He retied the papers and arising, went into the other room where
he laid them upon the table before General Putnam, who was now alone.
“I am ready,” announced he, in reply to the officer’s mute inquiry.
“Good lad,” said the general, heartily; “to-morrow, then, you make
a beginning. I’ll have a sum of money sent you to-morrow at your
lodgings, for you’ll have some small expenses, no doubt. And now, good
luck. Do your best.”
George saluted.
“You may trust me for that, sir,” said he. And then he went out.