"Give me my shilling, John," quoth he, "for I, also, am going with you. I've a grist-mill and a cabin and a glebe fair cleared at Varick's. But my father was all French; I have seen red for many a day; and if the King of England wants my mill I shall take my pay for it where I find it!" Silver began to grin and strut and comb out his scarlet thrums with dirty fingers. "Enfin," said he, with both thumbs in his arm-pits, "we shall be ver' happee familee in our pretee Bush. No more Toree, no more Iroquois! Tryon Bush all belong to us." "All that belongs to us today," remarked Godfrey grimly, "is what we hold over our proper rifles, Johnny Silver!" Old man Stoner nodded: "What you look at over your rifle sight is all that'll ever feed and clothe you now, Silver." "Oh, sure, by gar!" cried Silver with his lively grin. "Deer in blue coat, man in red coat, même chose, savvy? All good game to Johnee Silver. Ver' fine chasse! Ah, sacré garce!" And he strutted about like a cock-partridge, slapping his hips. Nick Stoner burst into a loud laugh. "Ours is like to be a rough companionship, John!" he said. "For the first shot fired will hum in our ears like new ale; and the first screech from the Iroquois will turn us into devils!" "Come," said I with a shiver I could not control. I shook hands with Joe Scott; Nick took leave of his big, gaunt father. We both looked at Dries Bowman, but he had turned away in pretense of firing the torch. "Good-bye, Brent-Meester!" cried little Johnny Stoner in his childish treble, as we started down the stony way toward the town below. * * * * * Johnstown streets were full of people and every dwelling, shop, and tavern lighted brightly as we came into the village. Mounted troopers of the Albany Horse guarded every street or clattered to and fro in search, they told us, of hidden arms and supplies. Soldiers of the regiments of Colonels Dayton and Livingston, too, were to be seen everywhere, some guarding the jail, some encamped before the Court House, others occupying suspected dwellings and taverns notorious as Tory nests. Such inhabitants as were known friends to liberty roamed about the streets or stood in knots under the trees, whispering together and watching the soldiers. But Tories and their families remained indoors, peering sullenly from their windows and sometimes scowling upon these soldiers of a new nation, within the confines of which they already were discovering that no place remained for any friend to England or her King. As my little file of riflemen passed on moccasined feet through the swarming streets of Johnstown, soldiers and townspeople gazed curiously after us, surmising immediately what might be our errand. And many greeted us or called out pleasantries after us, such as, "Hearkaway! The red fox will fool you yet!" And, "Dig him out, you wolf-hounds! He's gone to earth at Sacandaga!"