“We’ll not be able to make sure while that fellow is about,” laughed Tom. “He seems to object to our presence.” He dismounted and gave Sultan’s rein to Cole. Kneeling in the narrow road he pressed his ear to the ground, and kept it there for a long time. At length he arose. “Yes, horses,” said he, “and quite a lot of them. They seem to be coming along the main road, west of here.” He remounted Sultan and sat silently for a moment. Then he continued, “They are going in the direction of the ford that crosses the Congaree near Fort Mott. There is only one reason why a party of the enemy should be heading for Fort Mott at this time, when they have only started out to seek us.” “I know,” broke in Nat Collins, “I know what you are thinking. It’s the Tories, under Clarage, and they are taking the prisoners, which I spoke of, to the fort for safe keeping.” “Right,” said Tom, his eyes snapping; “that is exactly what occurred to me. And, look here, what a pity it is that Major James is not here, and the rest of his men. The Tories will be forced to pass the ruined mill that stands back from the west road, a short distance from here. We could reach that point long before them, judging from the sound of their horses’ feet, and we could give them a surprise.” For a moment there was silence; then Nat and David broke forth, at once. “Let us try it--alone!” Tom laughed in sheer glee, and cried excitedly, “Do you mean it?” “We do,” in a breath. Tom turned to Cole. The great negro grinned; anything that his young master thought of doing was always of great interest to Cole, because, as a rule, what his young master thought it worth while to do usually contained some spice of excitement. Tom knew what the slave’s grin expressed as well as though it had been in words. “Good!” cried he. “We’re all agreed; and we’ll try it alone. It can do no harm, even if we fail.” Wheeling their horses they spurred back along the road by which they had come, until they struck a narrow path branching toward the west. Galloping through such a swamp as that and along such a narrow, crooked track, in the darkness, was a most dangerous proceeding; but they were all young and danger, to their ardent spirits, meant but little. The old mill of which Tom had spoken lay upon the west road--that is the road leading to the Congaree;--it was deserted and had fallen into ruins years before. It was seldom that any one troubled it with his presence; so it was an ideal spot for a surprise or ambuscade. A sharp gallop of, perhaps, a quarter of an hour brought our four adventurers to the old mill. The moon was shining brightly; but the overhanging trees that surrounded the ruin threw it into a deep shadow. A dense thicket stretched along the roadside well in this shadow, and it was behind this that our friends ensconced themselves, after first securing their horses among the trees.