The two fugitives made a detour through the underbrush, tearing their clothes and making noise enough to guide the pursuing Red-coats. Dick and Fritz turned sharply to the left, stepping quietly for a few paces, and found themselves in the opening, before the very prison Fritz had so recently deserted, while the chase streamed by in the darkened woods, and the cries of the soldiers roused the neighboring fire-groups to action. "Into the hut," whispered Dick. "It's our only chance. The woods are alive with troops and we'd be caught in no time." "But I just got oud," objected Fritz. "And I don't----" "In you go," said Dick, giving him a push, and following the hurried and astonished boy, he closed the door after them and stepped to the window. "They have got us safe enough, if they only knew it," thought Dick. He turned to Fritz. "They'll come back here soon to see how you climbed out. We've got to hide somewhere. Quick, they're coming now! Under that straw in the corner, Fritz. I'll take care of myself. Way under, now!" CHAPTER III. A SURPRISE. Two days before the week succeeding the departure of Dick and his comrade had elapsed, Tom and Tim made their preparations to start after them. Ben had progressed nicely and was able to sit up and take an interest in life once more. After a long consultation with the commander the boys had arranged to make the first part of the trip by water. This in order to avoid the suspicion that they were following Dick and thus prevent the real importance of their mission from being discovered. Toward evening of the day of their departure, Tim Murphy, overflowing with true Irish wit and humor, and full of expectations of an exciting trip with Tom Dare, climbed gaily aboard the long, low-built schooner that was to convey them up the coast to the Chesapeake. "Sure, and it's welcome ye are to my private yacht, Tom," he called over the side to his companion. "Come aboard and join me party of friends who are thinkin' of cruisin' about for a few weeks at me expense." "There will be a murder at your expense when the captain sees those muddy marks on his white deck," replied Tom. "She is a beauty though, isn't she?" he continued, gazing critically over the craft's lines and rigging. "That she is," agreed Tim. "Avast, you land-lubber," bellowed a voice from the fore-deck. "Told you so," whispered Tom. "What did I do?" queried Tim, staring about to discover the cause of the trouble. "Oh, probably the gentleman who just spoke recognized you," laughed Tom. "Ow!" yelled Tim, for at that moment a can of varnish which one of the sailors had been lowering from the masthead, reached Tim, and tilting slightly, covered his face with the sticky fluid. "I'll be after haulin' ye to the gineral," shouted the outraged Tim. "Insultin' a special soldier on special duty is a serious offince." "You look like a very special soldier," Tom managed to say between his bursts of laughter.