Tom looked surprised. “Why, father, what do you mean?” Mr. Deering laughed. “After the part you took in the little affair of the night of the fourteenth of September,” said he, “I don’t think your presence will be very welcome upon the Harwood plantation. I hardly think Jasper Harwood looks upon the matter from the same point of view as you, Tom.” “Do you mean that he is a king’s man, sir,” exclaimed Tom. “I’m sure of it,” answered his father. “I can’t bring myself to believe it, father. He is, perhaps, like a great many others just now, reluctant to prove disloyal, but when the real time comes to act, I think you will find him as staunch for the Provincial Congress as any of us.” Mr. Deering laughed at his son’s earnestness. “Well, my boy, I trust you’re right, but I don’t think so. Jasper Harwood is a Tory, and will hardly take the trouble to hide it from you. So, you will not be kept long in suspense, if you are going there.” From the time he left his father and struck across the fields and swamps toward the Harwood place, Tom was deep in thought. Perhaps his father was right. He knew that Jasper Harwood was a harsh, arrogant man, with a violent temper and a great respect for the crown; but that he would let the latter blind him to the blessings of liberty, and turn his hand and tongue against his neighbors and friends was more than Tom, boy like, could realize. “But even if the master of the plantation himself is a king’s man, there are others there who are not,” mused the boy as he loped along, followed by Cole on the big bay. “Mark will prove true to the colony, I know. And then, there is Laura! Every throb of her heart is of indignation against British oppression. I am confident of that.” He was still deep in thought, and they were ascending a narrow road that led to the Harwood house before Tom realized it. Suddenly Cole uttered his strange cry and touched his horse with the spur. In a moment he was beside Tom, one hand upon his shoulder, and the other pointing to a small clump of trees by the roadside near the house. A half dozen horses were tied there, and from their trappings Tom knew them to be the mounts of the king’s dragoons. A like visit to their own plantation was still vivid in his mind; its horrible result to Cole caused all sorts of dreadful fears to crowd into his mind, and with beating heart he urged his steed forward at a gallop and threw himself from its back before the door. The sound of the galloping hoofs coming up the graveled path caused a rush to the doors and windows; among a group of red-coated dragoon officers, at the top of the high stone steps leading to the door, Tom recognized the planter, Jasper Harwood. Far from being in any peril, he seemed to be very well content, having a long churchwarden pipe in his hand, and the jovial looks upon the officers’ faces caused the boy to banish his fears for his half-uncle’s safety, at least.