Even to this day I dare swear Luther Stedman did not come up that tiny creek of his own free will; but was moved by some stronger power to deliver himself into our keeping, for verily there was no reason why any person should strive to pick his way amid that slime, except bent on duty or revenge, and he had neither in his heart; but came on carelessly, seemingly ignorant of what he did until within a scant ten paces of where we lay upon the bed of reeds. Now it was that even Sam forgot his prudence--forgot that which seemed positive would follow if we made ever so slight a move, and was standing to the best of his ability upon the frail platform of brush ready to join in whatsoever we did. Even now I fail to understand why it was that the Tory cur did not so much as raise his eyes; but came on blindly as if with the single purpose of delivering himself up to us, and we accepted what was neither more nor less than an invitation from him. It was Abraham who set the pace, although no more than the twinkling of an eye could have elapsed from the time he sprang out, as a panther springs upon his prey, when I was by his side, with Sam so close upon my heels that he was like to have tripped me. The first intimation Luther Stedman had of the danger that awaited him was the splashing of water as we three leaped into the swamp regardless as to whether we gave an alarm to the Britishers or not, and even then the miserable whelp did not raise his eyes until we had him firmly by the throat, both Abraham and I, with a grip which could not be shaken off, in such fashion that to have uttered the lightest whisper would have been impossible. Down, down into the slime we forced him until nothing save his face was above the surface, and I, literally crazed by anger and the knowledge that I had the whelp in my power, would have drowned him as one does a kitten, most like to have repented sorely at some later day, but that Abraham, having more command over himself, said in a whisper: “For three to kill one, however much death is deserved, would be cowardly murder, and, besides, I’m not minded that he shall escape from this world so easily.” Then it was that Sam, suspecting what was in my heart, placed both his hands under that Tory’s head to raise it from the mud, and as he did so thrust a bunch of leaves, hastily stripped from the bushes nearby, into the cur’s mouth, for already was he gasping for breath. It was this movement that restored Abraham and me to our senses, so to speak, and straightway in the stead of revenge, there came to us the knowledge that unless we would sacrifice Seth Hartley, must we take every precaution, for if we were discovered it was certain he would speedily hang from the yard-arm of the Good Hope.