“Huh,” said Jud and turned his back. Tom walked to the edge of the dock and, smiling to himself, stood for some time, looking at the sparkling waters. Then he turned and strode back toward Beech Street. Don glanced at his companion. “It’s lucky he didn’t hear anything,” he said. “If he had,” Jud replied with emphasis, “I’d have pushed him into the water. What do you suppose he was doing down here anyway?” “Oh, just snoopin’ around,” replied Don easily. “Since he’s become a sort of aide to old Ruggles he’s been doing it, you know.” The boys continued to talk in low tones for some time. It was pleasant there on the dock in the morning sunlight. Once Tom Bullard was out of their sight, he started to run. He ran up Beech Street to Shea’s Lane and from there made his way to Common Street. Out on the Common some of the companies were drilling, but Tom did not pause to look at them. He crossed the Mall and then at a fast walk went here and there among the troops. It took him almost half an hour to find the person he was looking for, and when he did find him at last he was so excited that he could hardly talk. “Snell--Snell,” he began, “I’ve got--something--to--to----” “Toot, toot!” said Snell, taking his arm. “Get your breath before you tell it.” Tom got his breath, enough of it anyway to tell the Redcoat what he had overheard at the warehouse. Then Snell was almost as much excited as Tom was. He rubbed his swollen face thoughtfully. “Powder in the cellar of that house!” he exclaimed. “Powder and fine cloth, and I like a fool was down there and didn’t even see it! You’re sure of it, Bullard?” “I should say I am,” Tom replied. “Didn’t I hear of it with my own ears?” “What are you going to do about it?” “That’s for the two of us to decide together,” replied Tom. “There’s no hurry, you know. We want to do it in the best way.” “Yes; in the best way.” Snell touched his fingers lightly to his discolored eye. “In the best way,” he repeated. CHAPTER XV MARCH WINDS BLOW It was clear that Snell’s idea of the “best way” to punish Don and his aunt was a way that would also punish Hawkins, with whom Snell was now on the bitterest of hostile terms; the two soldiers neither spoke nor so much as glanced at each other. But whatever Snell’s plan was, he and Tom were slow in carrying it out. No doubt they were busy with other things, for the month of March began in a way that promised to keep the Redcoats and the Tories occupied for some little time. On the night of the second the Continental batteries opened fire on the town. Don and his Aunt Martha were in bed when the firing began. For a long while they lay listening to the crash, crash of the shells, which seemed to be landing somewhere on the Common. They heard Snell and Hawkins descend the stairs and pass out into the street; then Aunt Martha went to her nephew’s room. “Donald, my boy,” she said, “what can it mean?”