“We must put a stop to such work as has been going on here,” he said. “Here in Peaceful Valley all the homes of the settlers have been burned to the ground, and the Indians will be doing the same at other points, unless they are prevented, and the only way to prevent them is to give them such a rough handling that they will be glad to retire to their villages and be peaceful and quiet.” The other officers and the settlers agreed with him, and General Greene named three officers to take charge of the three parties of soldiers, Captain Morgan being one of the officers named, and he would, of course, take his company. “I wish that I had the Dare Boys here, to go with me,” he said. “I always feel that I can get good reconnoitering work done if Dick Dare is with me. But, it is not likely that he will be back in time to go with my company.” “Likely not,” said General Greene, “but if he should come soon after you leave, I will send him after you, if you wish.” The three officers after making preparations took their departure, with their companies, and went in diverging directions, so as to cover as large a territory as possible. The company with Captain Morgan made its way slowly westward, keeping a sharp lookout ahead, and to the right and the left, looking eagerly for signs of Indians, but evening came and they had not succeeded. They were then about twelve miles from Peaceful Valley, and they went into camp on the bank of a creek, in the midst of the woods. Sentinels were stationed, for there was danger of an attack in the night, and the soldiers proceeded to cook and eat their suppers, they having brought sufficient provisions to last them several days. Among the soldiers of this company were Tim Murphy, a jolly, good-hearted Irishman and Fritz Schmockenburg, a Dutchman, and they were great friends, though they quarreled good-naturedly a fair portion of the time. They were great friends of the Dare Boys, too, and were never so happy when Dick and Tom were not with the company. “How you vos lige dis Injun fighdin’, Tim?” asked Fritz, as they sat beside each other on a log, eating their supper. “Foine,” was the reply. “It is more excitin’ than foightin’ ridcoats, Dootchy. Don’t ye think so, yersilf?” “Yah, I lige id firsd rate. But they are ugliness to loog at, und dot is so.” “The only t’ing Oi don’t loike about it, Fritz,” said Tim, with a sly wink at some of his comrades nearby, “is thot av the ridskins catch ye, they’ll scalp ye, an’ then they’ll tie ye up to a stake an’ burn ye, sure an’ they will.” Fritz looked worried. “Dot vould not be pleasantness, alretty,” he said. “Oi should say not, Dootchy. Take care thot they don’t capture ye, Fritz.” “I vill loog ouid dot dey don’t catch me, Tim Murphies.” “You had betther, me bye.”