He hastened down to the East River dock and got a boatman to take him across to the east shore, after which he made his way as quickly as possible to the patriot quarters on Brooklyn Heights. When he presented himself before General Putnam, and handed over the note, the officer, after a perusal of the few words written there, looked at the boy in some surprise and with no little interest. "Another one," he said, with something like a grim smile. "The Dares certainly seem to be in evidence to-night." "Dick was here, then, sir?" eagerly. "Yes, he was here." "How long has he been gone?" "Oh, about an hour, I should judge. He had to remain here until this evening on account of the storm." "Please direct me how to go in order to overtake him, General Putnam." "I will do so as nearly as possible, my boy." Then the general gave Tom all the directions possible, and the boy said: "Thank you, sir. I will try to join my brother to-night." "You had better keep your eyes open, Master Dare," cautioned General Putnam. "You are going where redcoats are thicker than mosquitoes, and that is saying a good deal." "I'll look out for them, sir," with a smile. "Good-bye, and thank you, General Putnam." "That's all right. You are welcome. Good-bye and good luck." Tom took his departure, and as soon as he was out of the patriot encampment, he hastened away in the direction that he had been told Dick had undoubtedly gone. "Perhaps by hurrying I may be able to overtake Dick," was his thought. He walked swiftly, at times running, and came to the wooded hills much quicker than Dick had done. He climbed the hill quickly, and was soon making his way down the other side. He had gone only a few steps when he heard the report of the musket-shot, sounding close at hand and almost in front of him. Instantly Tom was greatly excited. The thought came to him at once that a redcoat had fired that shot and that it had been fired at Dick, and with wildly-beating heart he ran forward, at the same time drawing a pistol from his belt. Tom was excited, but not at all frightened. His only fear was that perhaps Dick had been wounded or killed by the bullet from the musket, and he was eager to get a shot at the person who had just done the shooting. Suddenly he heard voices, and paused, listening intently. "I wonder if I got the rebel?" he heard one say. "Likely you did," replied another voice. "I don't hear the sound of running feet any more." "Served the rascal right if I put a bullet through him," said the first voice. "Yes. That is what ought to happen to all rebels." Tom heard these words, and his heart sank, and then a feeling of anger blazed up in his heart. What if Dick was killed, as these soldiers surmised. It was terrible to contemplate, and acting on the spur of the moment, Tom leveled his pistol, pointing in the direction from which the voices sounded, and pulled the trigger.