“Yah, Mistrees Arnold vent to ahl dee baals and deenirs vid Major Andre and dee Angleesh offeecirs as vas here een Pheeladalpheeia laast veentir,” said the Swede. “Hush, hush, Sven, here comes the General,” whispered the sentinel, as he came to attention and saluted General Arnold who passed to his small office building next his residence. Arnold did not look at Sven, but a scowl came over his brow as he passed into the little office room, slamming the door behind him. Sven then approached the door very cautiously and rapped. An imperious voice inside roared: “Come in.” The first greeting Sven got was: “What the devil you want here? Haven’t I told you not to come around here and bother me? I haven’t any money. So that settles it. Get right out of here.” “But, Ganral Arnold, I need some maaney to----” “Money, money,” roared the Commander as he arose from his seat and paced up and down the floor, never heeding the Swede. “Money! It is the nightmare of my life. I went to that dinner to drown the thoughts of the cursed stuff, but the only thing said by the nabobs was to get it, and the need of it comes upon me at arising. By thunder! I shall get it! I was never born to bear these pangs. “Sven,” turning to the Swede, “go and tell Johnson, in the kitchen, to bring me a hot rum and have one yourself.” “Ahl right, Ganral,” replied Sven, as he rubbed his hands gleefully, and made his retreat, glad to have a whole skin left. The next caller was Captain Samuel Risk, of the Privateer Holker. “Good morning, General. I’ve just come in with the snuggest kind of a prize,--a West Indian brig loaded out for home with sugar, rum and coffee for London merchants. She will net the firm of Milling & FitzMaurice ten thousand pounds sterling, and I have a neat little share besides.” “What! ten thousand pounds sterling? Is it possible? Why, that firm of Milling & FitzMaurice must be very prosperous. I wish I could get into a little of that kind of business myself. My expenses of living are very great, Captain, and I must make something by commerce.” “Well, well, General, that is a very easy matter.” “Why, Captain, are there any chances?” “Chances? Bless your soul, plenty, sir, plenty sir,” said the Captain. “All that we need are stern men, not too scrupulous and who can do a thing in such a way that the right hand will not know what the left hand does.” “Ha! ha!” laughed Arnold. “Why, sir, you know I used to be a trader myself at one time,--a New England trader, sir. Before the war, sir, I used to drive my team and sleigh by way of Lake George to Canada and trade Yankee notions for horses. Then I would drive the horses overland and take them on a brig to the West Indies and trade them there for sugar, rum and molasses. So you see I am a trader, sir,--a New England horse-trader.”