"I guess you're right," Stephen laughed. "But love of country and love of one's neighbor should be synonymous. This I have found by actual experience to be almost a truism." He was idling about the room gathering wearing apparel from the closets and drawers, pausing for a moment to feel a pile of wet clothing that lay across the back of a straight chair. "You must have fallen overboard last night," observed the sergeant. "I didn't fall, Griff; I jumped." "And let me tell you, Griff," Stephen continued, "Arnold has become one of the most dangerous men in the whole American Army." He was dressing quietly. "And you discovered that, too?" "I am certain of it, now." "That is more like it. I don't suppose you ever had any doubts about it. Now you have the facts, eh?" "I have some of them; not all. But I have enough to court-martial him." "And you got them last night?" "I did." "And got wet, too?" "I almost got killed," was the grave response. "How?" "Anderson shot at me." "Was he with you, also?" "No. After me." "Come, let us hear it. Where were you?" "At Mount Pleasant." "With Arnold and Anderson?" "Yes. But they did not know it. I shadowed Anderson to the house and lay concealed in the park. In the evening they came into the park, that is, Arnold and Peggy and Anderson." "And they discovered you?" "I think they did not. I was unfortunate enough to break a branch beneath my foot. They heard it. Of course, I was obliged to leave hurriedly, but Anderson must have seen me running. The distance was too great to allow him to recognize me. Then, again, I was not in uniform." "And he shot at you, I suppose." "He did, but the shots went wide. I decided the river was the safest course, so I headed for that and dived in. I believe I was fortunate in attempting to swim under water; this I did as long as I could hold my breath. When I arose, I allowed myself to float close to the shore along with the current until I had moved far down the river. After that I lost all sight of him." He was now dressed in his military uniform and looked little exhausted from his experience of the night before, notwithstanding the fact that he had enjoyed but a few hours' sleep. Still, it was past the hour of ten, and he could tell from the appearance of the street that the sun was already high in the heavens. He went to the window and looked out at the citizens hurrying to and fro about their several errands. From an open window directly across the way resounded the familiar strain of "Yankee Doodle" drawn from a violin by a poor but extremely ambitious musician. He stood for a minute to listen. "There are a few of them in the colonies," he remarked. "I would there were one less," was the reply. Stephen turned from the window. "We have some work ahead of us, Griff," he said after a long pause. "The plot is about to sizzle. Are you ready?" he asked. "Of course. When do you want me?"