At the sound of such a number of clicks, the five British whirled on their horses and dashed down the hill and Barclugh did as the rest, but he was in the rear since he did not understand their tactics of retreat. A volley followed the foe, retreating in the dark. Barclugh’s horse was shot, and threw his rider headlong with such violence that he was stunned and rendered unconscious. One of the fleeing British dropped his flintlock in the fracas. The attacking party chased the fleeing British, yelling and exchanging pistol shots. They returned when sure that the “cow-boys” were out of harm’s way and picked up the unconscious form of Barclugh. He was still unconscious when placed against a tree next to the roadside. After being administered a good drink of rum, Barclugh opened his eyes and asked: “Gentlemen, where am I?” “You are a prisoner,” replied the leader. “I was a prisoner,” insisted Barclugh. “You are still one,” came the sharp reply. A fire had been lighted by this time and all were warming their fingers in the chilly air of the May night. Barclugh gazed around and noticed that all wore the red coats of the British. He realized that he might better be good-natured over his captivity. He turned to his captors, with the remark: “Gentlemen, I have been a prisoner twice since sundown,--once the prisoner of King George by a party in Continental uniform, and now a prisoner a second time by a party of redcoats. Please inform me whose prisoner I may be now.” “Where did they git you?” asked the leader. “Did they git you in that Red Squirrel Inn?” at which the whole party laughed. “I b’leeve he tried to git a piece of that wooden ham,” sung out one of the party, and there was another burst of laughter. “Could you cut that chicken?” repeated another. “Well, gentlemen, I gave up the chicken as a bad job, broke the ham, paid Mrs. Puffer a sovereign and got no change, being glad to escape alive; for she told me she had hit Joshua with a boot-jack,” at which recital the whole party roared and some of the younger fellows rolled on the ground in delight. “Did she tell you how beautiful she used to be and how she froze out Nehemiah?” was the next question that gave them all a chance to laugh again. “Yes, indeed, and she asked me if I ‘didn’t think she would make a smart wife for a nice rich man?’ but I didn’t get a chance for a word in edgewise for an answer,” related Barclugh to the intense delight of the whole party. “Wal, stranger, I guess you are a purty good fellow. Where did you come from and where are you going?” asked the leader of Barclugh. “I came from the headquarters of General Washington this morning and gave my passport to those scamps and now they have carried it off.” “Wal, if you are able to travel we will take you to General Washington’s headquarters right away; for you are a prisoner of the Westchester Independents, and General Washington is at Verplancks Point to-night.”