Toward the end of the month British re-enforcements began to arrive, and on the twenty-fifth the troop-ship _Cerebus_ brought three generals--Howe, Clinton and Burgoyne. Don and Jud were in the vicinity of the Green Dragon Tavern a few days after the _Cerebus_ arrived. They were looking out over the harbor when Don heard someone call his name, and, turning, he saw one of the sailors who had helped him from the water the day he had saved the Redcoat from drowning. “Hello, there, young Master Donald,” said the fellow--it was Hank. “There’s the boat out there that brought the three big ones--Howe, Clinton and Elbow-Room Burgoyne. If they’d side-stepped on the gangplank, I don’t doubt you’d have jumped in and saved them.” Don flushed. “I’m not so sure--now,” he replied. “But tell me, why do you call Burgoyne ‘Elbow-Room’?” “Why, haven’t you heard that story?” Hank grinned and glanced round to make sure that no Redcoat was within hearing. “You see, it’s like this: As the _Cerebus_ was coming in she met a packet bound for Newport. ‘What news is there?’ Burgoyne shouts to the skipper. ‘The town is surrounded by ten thousand country folk,’ was the reply. At that the general opens his eyes wide. ‘How many regulars are in the town?’ he asks. ‘About five thousand,’ the skipper shouts in reply. Then the general’s eyes open wider than ever, and he cries, ‘What, ten thousand peasants keep five thousand King’s troops shut up! Well, let us get in, and we’ll soon find elbow-room!’” Both boys laughed heartily, and Hank added, “Elbow-Room Burgoyne it’ll be to the end of his days, now, I suppose.” Hank lowered his voice. “Let me tell you something, my lads,” he said. “There’s going to be a big fight before many days have passed. There must be close to ten thousand Redcoats in the town now, and, mark my words, they’re not going to sit idle, not they. You lads keep your eyes fixed on Dorchester Heights and Bunker’s Hill.” “How do you know all that?” asked Jud. The sailor solemnly winked his left eye and stuck his tongue into his left cheek. “The sea-gulls of the air,” he said. “The sea-gulls of the air.” Whether or not Hank had secret information about the movements and intentions of the British troops, it is a fact that on the evening of the sixteenth of June, while Don and his aunt were sound asleep, events moved swiftly toward a climax. The army in Cambridge, determined on driving the King’s troops from the town, took measures to fortify Bunker Hill, and then almost at the last moment changed the plan and fortified a hill that was somewhat nearer the town. All during the night the Continentals labored at throwing up earthworks; and all the while the stars looked down peacefully, and the British men-of-war floated serenely with the tide, and the British patrols cried “All’s well” at frequent intervals. At dawn Don and his aunt were wakened by the noise of firing; but by the time they were both down to breakfast the firing had ceased.