“We’ll come, Peter Snyder, whether in need of a shelter or not, if only to thank you for havin’ so much of an interest in our welfare,” I said, and truly I felt grateful to the old man because of the friendship which he displayed. “An’ you’ll hear from us again whether we succeed or fail, for desperate though the venture seems to you, I am of the mind that the Britishers won’t get away with the whole of us--at least one will be spared to tell the story.” Then we went out into the night and the rain, finding the exercise of walking grateful rather than otherwise, for we had remained inactive so long that our wet garments clung to us, and, warm though the night was, we were chilled. Now to any one who knows the trend of the land on Long Island from the head of Gowanus creek to Gravesend bay, the journey which lay before us will not appear to be any serious undertaking, for as the crow flies, I question if the distance be above six miles; but, as it appeared to me when we set out, we could count on being forced to cover at least ten miles because of the many detours in order to avoid the enemy, and the climbing of the hills. We held a sort of council when we first left Peter Snyder’s hut, to decide whether we might venture directly to Gravesend village, and from there to the shore, or if we had best give a wide berth to all settlements regardless of the extra amount of trouble and labor involved. We decided upon the latter plan, and with Abraham leading the way while I brought up the rear, set our faces toward the point of danger, as resolute as if we outnumbered the enemy two to one. Unfortunately, or so it seemed to me, the rain ceased falling nearabout daybreak; the sun came out bright, and we could set it down as a certainty that every lobster-back on the island would be astir within the hour. Up to this time, as nearly as I could guess, we had traveled on a zigzag course mayhap four miles, keeping to the thickets as much as possible, and never venturing even on a beaten path. It was when the day had fully dawned that Seth Hartley called us to a halt, by stopping suddenly and looking about as if in search of something, whereat I asked curiously: “What do you expect to find here?” “A hidin’ place.” “But surely we may keep on a couple of miles further,” Sam cried. “The day is so young that there will be few astir within the next hour.” “An’ there’s no reason why we should take the chances of encounterin’ those few,” Seth said decidedly. “I want you lads to keep up your courage; but at the same time don’t make the mistake of belittlin’ the difficulties. If we’re so fortunate as to be able to lend Abel Grant a hand, it can only come about through our playin’ the fox instead of the lion, an’ the time spent on the journey is as nothin’ compared with the possibility of lettin’ the enemy know that we are on the island.” “Then you would have us lie under cover all day?” Abe asked irritably.