IN CAMP
"Count noses, Andy, and be quick about it," said Phil hastily.
"My own squad are all here, Phil. Look to your own Musket Boys. If the
tally's right, we'd better take leg bail, for the mischief is done,
and--here come the Tories!"
It was a new scene, that occupied by Phil, Andy and others, the time
nightfall, the spot opposite Boston, near Cambridge.
Some twenty boys bubbling over with animation and excitement surrounded
Phil and Andy. Each ran his eye over the two groups of which the crowd
was composed.
"All here," sang out Phil. "Run for it fellows!"
Down the bank of the Charles river Phil and Andy started on a keen run,
their laughing, gossiping comrades following them. They left behind
them a large yawl and several men, rushing towards it. Out in the
stream there bobbed up some bulky bales and parcels, floating swiftly
with the current.
"Didn't even see us," said Andy triumphantly, slowing down his gait.
"Trick number two--inside of a week. Those fellows will think it wise
to leave a guard on their plunder, the next time."
"We don't want to try it too often," advised Phil. "They may set a trap
for us."
The occasion was a raid on the enemy at close quarters. Affairs had
changed for Phil and Andy and their friends during a month's rapid and
exciting flight. They were now real soldiers, for the continental army
was an actual fact, and they were members of it.
After the defeat at Concord, Gen. Gage's troops had ventured on no
more forays into the surrounding country. The raiders were taught a
lasting lesson, and had met with a terrible experience in their retreat
to Boston where every inch of the way was disputed. Utterly routed,
harassed at every town and hedgerow by patriot skirmishers, a forlorn,
defeated remnant of the original invading force, they had skulked back
into Boston, "very small potatoes," indeed!
They had shut the loyalists out of Boston. Now the loyalists retaliated
by shutting the redcoats and Tories into Boston. In fact, the city was
beleaguered. There were points open to the British for an occasional
brief foray into the country across the Charles river, but they did
not dare to go far, for the country, fully aroused by the Concord
incident, had sprung to arms instantly. The result was the formation
of the continental army all over the land, and the New England forces,
forming a well-disciplined camp at Cambridge, virtually held the Boston
redcoats passive.
Everybody in the colonies was enlisting. Andy had selected nearly a
dozen of the older boys of the Concord marching club, and had signed
the military roster.
The party, including himself, Phil and Ralph, had gone to Cambridge.
They were accepted as volunteers a day or two afterwards. Many members
of the Musket Boys of Boston managed to cross the river undiscovered in
the dark, and Phil found himself a juvenile leader with his dear old
chums under his official wing, ready to battle for him and the cause of
liberty.
They had managed to rig up a uniform that distinguished them from the
every-day home boy. They had tents of their own, were under the orders
of strict superiors, and did sentinel duty with their older comrades in
the service.
The boys fell into the new camp life as if they had been brought up
to it. They were useful in many ways to the general service. Phil had
not yet gone to Boston. It would have been a risky experiment, and,
besides, he felt that his duty lay with the army, and he put off the
visit from day to day. His folks had received the message sent by the
carrier pigeons, so they were assured of his safety, and his volunteer
chums had brought him messages from home when they came to join the
army.
One night Phil and Andy and their comrades came across a sailboat,
evidently belonging to some Tories who had stolen across the river
probably to exchange sentiments with emissaries from the interior. They
were warmly commended in camp when they reported this prize moored near
its river confines.
Now for the second time they had made a successful foray. They had
watched from ambush that afternoon a squad of redcoats cross the river
in the big yawl they had just despoiled. The men had left the boat
and had gone into the country to collect flour, horse feed and other
supplies, paying for them in some instances, and in others intimidating
the farmers into giving them the articles for nothing.
The boys kept on the watch until dark, and saw the raiders load up
the yawl with their plunder. Somewhere the Tories had got a supply of
"fire water." They one and all congregated in a little copse near by to
indulge in a free jollification before returning to camp. Phil and Andy
had directed a cautious visit to the boat. The Musket Boys had taken
prompt action. Every package aboard was dumped into the creek, and the
despoilers had fled in safety just as the Britishers detected the trick
that had been played upon them.
"Some one to see you, Warrington," said a sentinel, as the party of
young marauders passed into the camp.
"That so?" returned Phil. "Who was it? Is he here now?"
"Yes. About twenty new Boston recruits came in to-night. They've been
two days coming by the Breed's Hill route. Forty started, but got
blocked. This man is a neighbor of your family, and he had some message
for you, I believe."
"I hope there is no bad news," murmured Phil.
He hurried to the little group of tents where the Musket Boys were
encamped. There was one big tent where half-a-dozen of them bunked.
There was a light in this, and Phil heard conversation within, pulled
open the entrance flap, and noticed a man he knew seated among several
of the boys.
"How are you, Phil?" the newcomer said arising and greeting the boy
with a hearty handshake. "You see, we are all moving into your camp
gradually."
"I am glad to see you, Mr. Monroe," replied Phil. "How are the folks?"
"All well, Phil, only there has been a little trouble, and your mother
wanted me to see you. She sends her love, and has given me some money
to give you."
"And father--" began Phil.
"Well, Phil," said Mr. Monroe, "your father is paying the penalty
for being true to his country. You know he and Mr. Powell and Mr.
Clinton have been most active in encouraging recruits for the army and
smuggling them out of Boston. Gen. Gage got wrathy at their success. He
ordered their arrest three days ago, and they are now prisoners."
"The tyrants! the scoundrels!" flashed out Andy, who had accompanied
Phil and now overheard the conversation.
Phil was a little pale and worried.
"What will they do with my father and the others, Mr. Monroe?" he
questioned.
"I don't think they can do anything much," replied Mr. Monroe. "In the
first place, your father's loyal friends won't appear as witnesses. In
the next place, if the British proceed to any extreme measures, they
will raise a riot. It is only by constantly parading their militia and
firearms that they depress the loyal people of Boston. We are all very
sorry, for since it has been planned to have George Washington take
command of the army and introduce some organization and discipline,
they have been selecting good men as officers, and I believe it was the
intention of your father and his two fellow prisoners to join us in
coming over here to go into active service."
"That settles it. They shall come!" cried Andy Sabine, whipping out of
the tent, on fire with some new idea that had entered that active mind
of his.
Phil did not see his chum again that night. The Boston boy reflected
a good deal over the unfortunate situation of his father. He was
afraid that a charge of treason might be made against his parent by
the Tories. Mr. Warrington and his colleagues might be transported to
England, which in those days meant life imprisonment or death.
Phil saw his commanding officer early in the morning and had a talk
with him over the troubles of the imprisoned patriots. That official
intimated to him that if his father was a member of the continental
army in open conflict with the British, they could not make the charge
of treason, as they might on a subterfuge while he was a mere citizen
under direct British rule.
"If your father could escape and join the army before any definite
charges were made against him, he would be free from any of Gage's
kidnapping-hanging tactics," explained the officer.
"Then a way must be found to rescue my father and his friends,"
declared Phil.
He thought over the situation all that morning, and had a talk with
Ralph Post. Together they went to see the commanding general. Phil
asked for a week's leave of absence from duty, and he frankly told the
general that it was his plan to get into Boston in some way to rescue
his father and his friends and to get them safely out to Cambridge. The
general listened gravely to the project. Then he said:
"You are a brave young fellow, Warrington, and a loyal son. I wish we
could help you. You are welcome to the leave, and take as many of
your comrades as you need. We wished to get some important information
to friends in Boston, and if you decide to attempt to get through the
lines report to me and I will give you a letter. I hope you will be
able to deliver it at a certain address in the city."
"Thank you," said Phil, and retired to find Andy waiting for him
impatiently in the main tent of the Musket Boys.
"Andy, I'm going to Boston," announced the boy impulsively.
"Of course you are," nodded Andy, without betraying any surprise
whatever, "and I'm going with you. I've been thinking it over all night
long, and planning for it all morning."
"Oh, you have," murmured Phil.
"Think I'd leave you in the lurch? Think for a moment we're going to
leave your father in trouble? No, sir! Before midnight you and I will
be in Boston. I've arranged it all. I've got a scheme that will get us
across the Charles river as easy as rolling off a log."