In this my father was agreed, and as soon as might be we were on our way, standing directly across, I in the meanwhile wondering how we might fare for food, being thus thrown on our own resources, until Master Decker, taking some money from his pocket, said to my father: “We will give them enough of silver to provide all hands with food for two or three days, and before more is needed either you or I will have seen them again.” It is not well that I should spend overly much time in telling all the trifles concerning our lives which had no direct bearing upon what we would do for the Cause, therefore it is I shall say that we landed Master Decker and my father on the shore of Wallabout bay, and came back to where it was proposed we should find anchorage, shortly after dark. Sam took upon himself the duties of cook, and we gave him the money with which to buy provisions, paying but little heed to the possibility that some of the Tories might seek us out even on that first night after we had made prisoners of Luther and his companion. Very jolly it was living aboard the sloop, with plenty to eat, and going ashore whenever fancy dictated. We spent two idle days, remaining the greater portion of the time in the cabin or on the deck, and then came the morning when it was told everywhere in the town that Thomas Hickey, he of General Washington’s guard who had turned traitor and joined Tryon’s plot, was to be hanged on the Common for his crime, he having had a fair trial before the military court, and been found guilty beyond a possible doubt. Abel Grant was the only member of our party who cared to witness the execution, and I venture to say that there were few lads in New York who remained absent from the horrid spectacle. We felt no doubt but that the fellow richly deserved death, and yet neither of us had the heart to see a human being put to death in such a cold-blooded, even though legal, manner. Abel jeered at us, declaring that our blood was not as thick as should be the blood of Minute Boys, else we would not be so chicken-hearted, and, having seen the misguided man sent into Eternity, was eager on his return to tell us of the horrible details; but we refused to listen. I was sick at heart, fearing lest Luther Stedman might have been so far guilty as to merit a like punishment. I believe it would have haunted me all the days of my life, had I had a hand in carrying a lad to the gallows. The days passed on, and we remained anchored off Oliver Street, apparently forgotten by every one save Master Decker and my father, who came from time to time to make certain we were needing nothing and remained in good health. More than once before the 9th day of July did I insist that we might safely return to our homes; but father and Master Decker both insisted that we were to stay yet longer on the New York side, for it was noised about among our Tory neighbors that we had sent Luther Stedman to headquarters as prisoner.