"My house is around the bend in the road," the girl answered quickly, "I'll cut through these woods and be safe in two minutes. But you must hurry, for he won't come back alone." "Good-bye and good luck," cried Dick as he watched her spring lightly over the stone wall at the side of the road. "All aboard, Fritz, I reckon they're after us," and suiting action to the word, Dick vaulted into his saddle and started away at a gallop. The pursuing Redcoats could be seen plainly now, urging their horses on in the hopes of overtaking the young patriots before they had gathered speed. The two groups fairly flew along the dusty highway, and Dick, bending low over his saddle, saw the pursuers drawing their pistols. "Bend down, Fritz," he shouted, "but don't try to return their fire." Even as he spoke there was the sound of discharged firearms. "Ach, I'm a dead one alreaty," hollered Fritz, and before Dick could reply or offer aid, the German boy clutched madly at his horse's mane and then rolled in a heap in the dust of the road. His fall was greeted with yells from the soldiers, who quickly approaching soon surrounded his prostrate form and abandoned any further pursuit of Dick. "Just what Tom said," muttered Dick, as after a hard gallop he slowed down his panting horse and wiped the dust from his eyes. "Here, on the first day out, Fritz is captured and probably wounded seriously, and I can't go on my mission till I find out how he is and what I can do for him." Dick rode slowly onward for half a mile more, and then turned off in the bed of a stream which crossed the road at this point. The brook rapidly narrowed to a rushing little fall, and here, completely away from sight or sound of travellers along the road, he jumped from his tired horse, permitted him a refreshing drink at the brook, and, after hobbling him securely, turned his attention toward preparing a meal for one. Dick moistened a handful of flour with water, kneaded it with his fingers into a clinging dough, and set it aside while he built his fire. He was particular to pick out dry pieces of moss and hard twigs, for smoke was a thing to be avoided, and the hard woods burn freest. Having gradually increased the size of his fuel and consequently the blaze, until he judged it hot enough, Dick drew his hunting knife, cut two pieces of bacon from his precious store, and laid them in the pan on the coals. The dough he now rolled into flat round cakes and placed in the pan with the bacon to fry. Carefully turning the cakes and bacon from time to time with the flat of his knife, he prepared a meal fit for a king, but destined to be eaten by an enemy of all kings.