During all the time we were running in under the lee of the land Abel Grant continued to talk with Sam, impressing on his mind that portion of the scene which would seem of the most importance to General Putnam, and immediately the anchor had been let go, with the sloop less than fifty yards from the shore, the “admiral” hauled the punt alongside. “Get hard-tack enough to stay your stomach till mornin’, Sam, an’ then you’ll be where it’ll be possible to get food in plenty, or else you won’t be needin’ overly much.” It seemed to me a brutal way of reminding the lad that there was danger in plenty before him, yet Sam appeared pleased rather than otherwise that his task was to be beset with difficulty, and said hurriedly, while stowing the biscuit under his shirt where they would not hamper his movements: “Allowin’ that I get to New York all right, I shall come straight back here as soon as the general can be told of what we’ve seen, so keep a sharp lookout for me, in case you’re cruisin’ nearby. I’ll show some kind of a signal, if possible; but you can count to a dead certainty that I’ll be here inside of three days if I’m alive an’ at liberty.” Then the plucky fellow stepped over the rail into the punt, and Abel Grant paddled him ashore without giving us time to say a word of farewell. Night had fully shut in when the “admiral” came over the rail again, and Abe and I were in the cabin overhauling the generous supply of stores in order to break our long fast. “Goin’ it kind’er strong, eh?” Abel said with a laugh as he saw how much we had laid out for supper. “It strikes me that you’ve got enough there for a full company of Minute Boys.” “We may as well live high while we can, for there’s no tellin’ how soon all this stuff will be taken aboard one of the Britishers,” Abe replied grimly. “Why did you hurry Sam off so fast? A few minutes more or less couldn’t have made any great difference.” “It wasn’t the time I wanted to save, but the words,” Abel Grant said gravely. “You lads are mixin’ yourselves up in real war, when the lives of an hundred, or even a thousand men don’t count very heavy, an’ it ain’t a good plan to talk overly much in the way of sayin’ good-bye when a fellow is headin’ for a hornet’s nest.” “We’re the ones who are nearest the hornet’s nest,” Abe said with a laugh. “We shall be after Luther Stedman does his work; but for the next four an’ twenty hours Sam has got the ticklish job. There ain’t a Tory on Long Island who don’t know his father for the hottest kind of a Whig, an’, seein’ Sam come from this direction, it won’t be a very far call to set down his exact business. I only hope he’ll pull through all right, an’ he’s the most foolish kind of a fool if he tries to come back.”