By this time the boat had run alongside the bulkhead at the foot of Market Street, and I, not minded to continue a useless discussion with enemies, leaped ashore. It had been decided by my comrades that I should be the one to lay information before General Putnam, and noting how useless any further protest would be, I hastened away to acquit myself of the task that we might the sooner return to Master Dyker’s dock, where perchance my father might already be awaiting me. It was not a simple matter to gain entrance to headquarters once I had arrived opposite. The guard outside had been redoubled, probably since the discovery of the Tory plot, and during ten minutes or more I argued and coaxed in vain to be brought before General Putnam. The soldiers, not believing a lad of my age could have important business with the commander at such a time, refused even to listen unless I was willing to explain all my purpose, and since this I refused positively to do, it seemed much as though I might not succeed. Very like I should have failed utterly, but for the fact that in the very nick of time, when I was pleading most earnestly, Lieutenant Winterbottom, one of the few Whigs on our island who had enlisted in the American Army, came my way. To him I appealed with such earnestness that he could not fail of giving ear, and because of knowing that my father was one of the staunchest Whigs on Wallabout bay, he was disposed to do whatsoever he might. “It is of the utmost importance that I have speech as soon as may be with General Putnam, because of somethin’ which has happened within the hour concernin’ Luther Stedman, whose father, as you well know, is that Tory who has been tryin’ so long for an appointment in the Customs. More than this I cannot say; but if you will conduct me to the general then am I willin’ you should be present durin’ the interview.” “I am thinking it would be General Putnam who’d say how many should be present,” the lieutenant replied with a laugh; “but I will do whatsoever may be, believing you would not have so spoken unless with serious reason.” Now I was afraid of having gone almost too far, for what Abel Grant and my comrades thought was a “serious reason,” might not so appear to the commander when my story was told; but I had gotten thus along on my mission, and, as can well be supposed, was not minded to draw back at the very moment when success seemed assured. Therefore, but with a timorous fluttering of the heart lest I should be accused of making a mountain out of a mole-hill, I followed the lieutenant into the building, and that he had some influence there, low though his rank in the army was, I understood by the fact that, within less than ten minutes, I was standing before General Putnam hurriedly telling, as nearly as was in my power, all that had taken place from the time Luther Stedman and his friends came on board the Swiftsure. [Illustration: “I WAS STANDING BEFORE GENERAL PUTNAM.”]