CHAPTER II. THE MISSING MESSAGES.
The sun had been up a full half hour the next morning when Joe awoke.Raising his head he looked about him. He was alone. Springing to hisfeet he hastened to the door. The camp-fire had been built; thebreakfast was slowly cooking; but Ira was nowhere to be seen.
A low splash, as though some one was wading across the pond, reached hisears. The tent faced south, while the approach to the island by the wayof the brook was from the east. He was obliged, therefore, to stepoutside his shelter in order to obtain a view of the direction fromwhich the sound came.
The moment he did so he found it difficult to suppress the cry of alarmthat rose to his lips, for there, not more than two rods away, was astranger, who, having just put on his huge boots after wading over tothe island, looked up in time to catch sight of him. Instantly bringinghis rifle to his shoulder the intruder called out in loud, gruff tones:
"Stand where you are, youngster. Any attempt on your part to get a gunwill force me to fire."
Seeing his words had the required effect, he came a little nearer, andcontinued:
"Your companion ran away when I came up. Is it he, or you, who has myiron cross?"
For an instant Joe could do no more than stare at the speaker. Could itbe that the real Ira Le Geyt had escaped from the hands of GeneralSchuyler, and in some way traced out the lad who was intending topersonate him in the British camp?
"Who be ye?" he finally questioned, using the time he gained thereby toexamine the newcomer carefully.
He certainly resembled the other Ira. This fellow did not appear to bequite so tall; he was more stout; his hair was a shade or two darker;his nose was more prominent; and he looked older.
There was a greater difference in his dress. He wore high top-boots, anEnglish hunting suit of costly material, a belt of polished leather,containing a brace of pistols and a silver-handled knife, while on hisback was a huge knapsack, apparently filled to overflowing.
Scarcely had Joe learned all this, when the answer to his query came inan angry voice:
"Who am I? You ought to know. Again I ask, have you my iron cross?"
This settled matters with the listener. Here was the real Ira, and thething to do was to outwit and capture him, call back his friend, andthen their plans might go on as arranged. With this object in view heedged slowly along towards the intruder, saying innocently:
"I never saw you before, an' I've nothin' belongin' to you, sir, but--"and with a tremendous bound he caught his antagonist's gun, tearing itfrom his grasp. Flinging it away, he seized the owner by the body,pinning his arms to his sides, and then finished his sentence, "I've gotyou."
To his surprise there was no struggle. Instead, a voice he knew wellcried out laughingly:
"Well done, Joe; but you must admit I as neatly fooled you. I guess Ishall be able to play my part at the British quarters."
"It looks like it, I swaney," Joe said a little sheepishly. Releasinghis prisoner, he stepped away a few feet and looked him over again, thistime more critically.
"It beats anythin' I ever heard of," he at length declared. "Though Iknew you were goin' to rig up in some way, I thought the real Ira hadstolen a march on us, an' got into camp--leastwise, you seemed like thereal Ira to me, though I've never set eyes on him. Unless the red-coatsknow him better than I do, they'll take you for him, sure."
"Of course it is possible more than one of the British officers may knowLe Geyt," the lad said thoughtfully, "or some person come into the lineswho has seen him. But I think the risk is small. His visits to this partof the state have not been frequent, and, while his name is familiar,his face and form are not. I flatter myself I have a make-up that quiteresembles him, and believe I can successfully carry out the part. Let ushave breakfast, and then I will be off."
As he spoke he dropped his pack beside the gun, and, going to the fire,helped himself to the smoking food. Joe followed his example, and theyate almost in silence.
The meal finished, Ira removed his huge boots, and, adding them to hisbundle, started down the brook. His comrade followed as far as the greatmaple, and from there watched, as he, after resuming his foot-gear,walked slowly toward the British camp.
He would have been greatly excited had he witnessed what befell thetraveler a few moments later. Emerging from the ravine, he had gone buta few rods when a stalwart Indian leaped from a thicket and grasped himby the shoulder. The next instant a half-dozen more surrounded him.Though offering no violence, it was clear they intended to make him aprisoner.
Instead of being disturbed by this mishap, the captive seemed to rejoiceover it. He smiled pleasantly, laid his hand gently on the shoulder ofthe man who first seized him, and who was apparently the chief of theparty, saying in the native tongue:
"My brother, you are from the great camp by the lake."
A grunt of assent came from the captor.
"Take me there at once," the prisoner continued with some show ofauthority. "I have important business with General Burgoyne, thecommander."
His words were not without their effect. Releasing him, the Indian saidin a tone of inquiry: "Ira Le Geyt?"
"Ira Le Geyt," the youth repeated, and at the same moment he drew fromthe bosom of his coat the iron cross.
At sight of the bit of metal the chieftain gave a peremptory order tohis men to fall in behind him, and then, side by side with the capturedlad, strode away towards the encampment.
They were not long in reaching the first outpost. To the guard theIndian uttered the two English words, "King George," and was allowed topass with his entire party.
Once within the lines the chief sent his followers to their quarters,and then led his companion swiftly across the enclosure to the tent ofthe commander, which he entered without ceremony.
"General! Ira Le Geyt!" he said, and then vanished.
Two men turned to face the newcomer; one in the uniform of amajor-general, the other in the garb of a private citizen, for theirbacks had been toward the entrance, while they were giving undividedattention to a rude map or chart which was spread out upon the camp bed.
"I beg your pardon for this intrusion, General Burgoyne," the youngscout began, bowing low before that officer, "It was due to myconductor, one of your Indians, who ran on me in the forest."
"It is all right, Master Le Geyt," the commander replied good-naturedly."Indeed, your coming is most timely. My companion, who, by the way isMaster George Preston, a courier who came from Quebec with us, and is togo on to New York with a message for General Clinton from Lord Germain,and I, were trying to trace out on this map the best route for him tofollow down the river. Perhaps you, who, I am informed, are familiarwith this entire region, may be able to help us. Would you advise him totake the east or west side?"
Ira stepped to the bed, ostensibly to examine the map, which proved tobe a crude and inaccurate affair, but really to gain time in which tothink over the situation. Here was work for him immediately. If this manhad a message for General Clinton from Lord Germain, the War Secretaryin London, it was altogether too important to be allowed to reach itsdestination. But how should he prevent it, and obtain possession of thepaper?
He cast a furtive glance at the courier to ascertain the kind of man hehad to deal with. The look was hardly reassuring. Clearly George Prestonwas not a man to be easily thwarted. Forty years of age, nearly a giantin strength and stature, with a face that suggested courage,resourcefulness, and faithfulness to duty. It was certain he had beenselected for the task assigned him because he could be thoroughly reliedupon.
All this the lad took in during the brief minute he stood silent, and atonce decided upon a plan which he believed would enable him toaccomplish his purpose. Then he said in answer to the question askedhim:
"Both, sir. He better make directly for the river from here, and,crossing it, go down the west side until below Albany. Then, recrossingit, follow the east side to his destination. In this way he will
escapethe main forces of the enemy, and so lessen his chances of beingcaptured."
"That is what I told you, Master Preston!" exclaimed the general intriumph. "I need the aid of Clinton too badly to run any risk of yourmessage failing to reach him. Take the safer way, even though itinvolves a longer journey. Twenty-four hours delay in the delivery ofthe letter is nothing, if it in the end reaches the general."
"My chief objection to the plan lies in this:" the courier said quietly."It is unlike the route laid out for me in St. John. I had rather obeythe letter, as well as the spirit, of my orders."
"A good practice, truly," General Burgoyne replied heartily, "and onethat proves you are the man for this work. But our friends in St. Johndid not know what might arise, and therefore left you to your ownjudgment. I am exceedingly anxious that you use every precautionpossible to carry Lord Germain's message safely through the enemy'slines."
"You cannot be more anxious than I," Master Preston said calmly, "and Ihave something more to say, provided our friend here is all he claims tobe. It may be over-caution on my part, but if I recollect rightly, hehas nothing but the word of that Indian to back him," and he gave theofficer a glance which caused him to flush slightly.
"Master Le Geyt answered so fully the description I had received ofhim," the general replied somewhat haughtily, "that I was at oncesatisfied he was all he claimed to be. Nor is the Indian's word of solittle value as you seem to think. He must have known the young man, orhe would never have brought him here. But since you have your doubts, hecan, I am sure, show what will convince us that he is as trustworthy asyourself," and he glanced confidently at the youth.
"I thank you, General Burgoyne, for so much confidence in me," Irareplied, "and I commend the caution of Master Preston. He has a perfectright to demand full proof of my identity before giving me anyinformation which might be of value to an enemy. I will then, with yourpermission, hand him my credentials first," and, ripping open the liningof his coat, he took out two slips of paper, which he gave to thecourier.
"The first is my commission as a scout from the general here," heexplained. "The second is from our good friend, Lord Germain, and bearshis official seal. You will see that he vouches for my loyalty, andsuggests that General Burgoyne employ me during this campaign. I believeit was this paper that led the general to send me the other, though hehad never seen me."
"I also had a personal note from the Secretary, giving me a descriptionof you, and setting forth in detail how you could be of special serviceto me," the commander hastened to add. "Are you satisfied, MasterPreston?"
"I ought to be," the latter declared, "and to prove it I will now make adisclosure, general, which I have up to this time withheld, even fromyou."
As he spoke he took a small package from his coat pocket, and openingit, brought to view three papers.
"This," he said, "is the letter to Sir Henry Clinton; this is mypassport into any and all of our army lines; and this is the document Iwish to show you. You will notice, General Burgoyne, that our friends atSt. John were not in ignorance of the best route for me to follow ingoing to Yew York, and also will understand the real reason why I holdfor the path they have marked out."
Unfolding the paper with these words of explanation, he showed hiscompanions a carefully prepared route of the entire distance he was totravel. Each day's journey was laid out; every stopping place, with thename of his host, was written down, and, now and then, beside a name wasa peculiar mark.
"Note these references," he continued, "are concerning those men who areto give me special tidings as to the number and position of the rebelsin their vicinity. James Graham of Hubbardtown, where I make my firststop, will tell me the latest news about Fort Ticonderoga; WilliamErskine will report as to the condition of affairs about Fort Edward.The other men will in turn post me about matters in their neighborhood,so that when I reach my destination I expect to be the bearer ofinformation to General Clinton which will greatly aid him in despatchinga force up the river to join you at Albany."
Before he finished speaking Ira had read and fixed in his memory thenames of the men who were to assist the courier. He knew some as rankTories, but there were others who had the reputation of being friendlyto the Cause, and, therefore, were allowed to come and go freely in theencampments near them. This revelation of their true character heregarded of sufficient value to repay him for all the risk he had run inentering the British camp.
"I had not thought of that, Master Preston," the commander admitted."The additional information you gain may be worth the chances you takein following that route. It is clear the authorities at St. Johnbelieved it would be. But I advise you to travel only in the night, andlay quietly in quarters during the day."
"Precisely what I have planned to do, general. Leaving here to-night Icount, unless I lose my way, to reach the house of Master Graham beforesunrise. After that I shall have no trouble, for, if need be, a guidecan be furnished me from station to station."
"And you may have a guide to Master Graham's door," the young scout saidmodestly. "That is, if you are willing to accept my humble services."
"I certainly am, and thank you for the favor," the courier answeredheartily. "It removes the only anxiety I had about this first stage ofmy journey. We will start about nine o'clock, if that suits you."
"Perfectly."
"And you, General Burgoyne, can have your letter to Sir Henry ready bythat time?" he asked.
"Yes; but I hope you have some safer place than your pocket for it andthose other papers," the general replied, as Master Preston began towrap up the documents he had exhibited.
"Don't borrow any trouble on that score, my dear sir," the man repliedwith a peculiar smile. "I may be captured, and my garments picked topieces, but I assure you the missives will not be found," whichdeclaration was credited by one, and doubted by his other hearer.
An orderly now appeared, saying that General Fraser was without anddesired an interview with the commander.
"Show him in," was the reply of that officer, and then, turning to hisother visitors, he added, "I shall be busy during the remainder of theday, but an half-hour before you begin your journey I will be glad tosee both of you here. The tent at the right, Master Le Geyt, has beenprepared for you," and then he turned to greet his subordinate, who hadalready entered.
"I shall spend some hours in a much needed rest," the young scoutannounced to his companion, when they were outside; "but will join youat sundown, if you so desire."
"I will call for you when I come to report to the general," MasterPreston replied, and then hastened off to his own quarters.
Ira left his tent but once during the day. That was just after dinner,and for a stroll in the forest. He was absent about two hours, and onhis return brought a fine string of trout he had caught.
"A present for the general," he said to the courier, whom he chanced tomeet soon after he entered the lines.
"I wish you had taken me with you," the latter cried enthusiastically ashe inspected the speckled beauties. "If there is anything I enjoy morethan running the lines of the enemy, it is angling, and you have thefinest catch I have ever seen in this country."
"Then that shall be a bond between us," was the hearty response. "I knewof a pool a mile or two from here, and could not resist the temptationto pull out a string. You'll be here in a few hours?"
"Yes," said Master Preston, strolling on, apparently unsuspicious thathis new acquaintance had been out of the camp for any other purpose thanthat of fishing.
Their interview with General Burgoyne during evening was brief. He gavea letter he had prepared for General Clinton, to Master Preston, whoasked to be excused for a few moments. Somewhere in the outer darknesshe concealed it about him, for when he returned he said:
"I've put it with the others, sir, and promise you that it shall notfall into any hand than that for which it is intended."
Ten minutes later he and his guide had left the encampment, and weregliding swiftly and noiselessly t
hrough the forest toward MasterGraham's.
Several times the heavy step as of some belated traveler caused them toshrink back under the cover of the dense brush until it had ceased. Nowand then came the cry of some wild beast to startle them, but they keptsteadily along the trail until nearly midnight. Then they had arrived ata small brook, which crossed the path at right angles, and here Ira, whowas in the lead, stopped.
"Our journey is half done," he announced. "We may as well halt here, andhave something to eat."
On a rock beside the stream, amid darkness that could almost be felt,surrounded by a silence that seemed oppressive, the two in silencepartook of the food they had brought with them. Quenching their thirstfrom the rivulet, they were about to resume their tramp, when came thehoot of an owl from the rear. It was repeated at a short distance downthe trail, and a moment later sounded nearer yet, but from up the brook.
"Can it be we are followed and surrounded?" the courier askedapprehensively in a low tone.
"It is a singular circumstance," his companion admitted in a whisper."There it is again," and, listening, they heard the cries again inprecisely the same order. Then came the sharp snap of a twig as thoughsome one was approaching.
"The way is open to the right," Ira continued in the same low tone."Quick! we may yet escape."
He led the way down the stream, going as rapidly as the darkness andunderbrush would permit, his comrade keeping close at his heels. After awhile the ground became soft and miry, and the bushes were so dense asto render progress exceedingly difficult.
"We must take to the brook," Ira said to his companion. "Pull off yourboots!"
"But is it necessary?" the courier asked. "Can't we wait here awhile,and then go back to the trail?"
"Listen!" was the answer. Through the stillness of the night came totheir ears the sound of footsteps.
"I have it," the young scout whispered to Master Preston. "We'll take tothe stream here, and keep it down a few rods to where another brookjoins it, which last we'll follow. It will enable us to work toward theold trail, and at the same time throw our pursuers off the track."
Stepping into the water a moment later, they waded slowly and cautiouslyalong to the tributary of which Ira had spoken. Entering this they beganits ascent. During a half hour they kept on, pausing occasionally tolearn if they were still followed, but no sound broke the stillness ofthe forest.
"Those fellows have lost our trail; can't we leave the brook now?" thecourier at length asked, becoming tired of his slippery and uncertainfooting.
His companion's answer was also a question:
"What's that ahead of us?"
Master Preston stepped beside his guide, and then replied:
"It is a fire of some kind!"
"A camp-fire," was the rejoinder. "I can now see a tent beyond."
"What shall we do?"
"Keep straight on. Whoever may be there are probably fast asleep at thishour."
Noiselessly they advanced.
"We are in a pond," the courier whispered an instant later.
"That's a fact," his companion agreed, "and that is Boulder island. Iknow where we are now. I don't think we have anything to fear, stillwe'll keep our guns ready for immediate use."
The next moment they gained the shore of the island, and stopped infront of the fire, at the tent door. The canvas dwelling was empty.
Ira laughed loudly.
"This is a joke on us!" he exclaimed. "See! there are the fellows'fishing rods. They were doubtless out hunting when night came on, becameseparated, and are trying to find each other and their camp. We've runaway from men who had no thought of pursuing us," and again he laughedheartily.
Before his comrade could speak a cry came from the main shore.
"Hello there! Who are you in our camp?"
"I ought to know that voice," the young scout said to the courier. Thenhe replied:
"Is that you, Joe?"
"Yes, but who are you?"
"Ira Le Geyt."
"Hurrah!" came back across the little pond. "We'll jine ye in a minute."
There was a noise as of splashing water for a moment, and then two younglads came into the dim light of the camp-fire.
"Glad to see you, Ira," they both exclaimed, shaking hands with him, andhe introduced his companion to them.
"Master Preston, this is Joe Fisher and Late Wentworth, two friends ofmine, who are of the right sort."
When the courier had acknowledged the introduction, his guide continued:
"Was it you who were hooting like owls up where the stream crosses theHubbardtown trail?"
"Yes," Late replied. "We were separated, an' tryin' to come togetheragain. Why do you ask?"
"We thought it was some one who wanted to hem us in on the trail, and sotook to the brook," the young scout explained, "and here we are, threeor four miles out of our way."
"Well, ye better stay until mornin'," Joe said. "You are both welcome toour shelter an' fodder, such as it is. Ain't that so, Late?"
"I reckon," his camp-mate replied, "an' if we don't turn in soon,mornin' will be here 'fore we get a wink of sleep."
"I leave it to you, Master Preston," Ira said. "Shall we go on, orstay?"
"Go on," he answered. "I must reach my destination before light, if itis possible."
"Very well," his guide replied, stooping to pick up the big boots he hadthrown down upon reaching camp.
The courier bent over for the same purpose, but before he could recoverhimself, Late and Joe seized and threw him to the ground. Ira came totheir aid, and in a few moments the man was bound and disarmed.
"What does this mean?" he demanded with an ugly glance at the youngscout.
"That I want the papers you carry," Ira replied quietly.
"Find them then," he retorted with a grin.
His clothing was examined, his boots, hat, belt, the stocks of hispistols and gun; but the important papers could not be found.