“He’s a very decent fellow, sir, much more so than I would have believed any lobster-back could be. His parole was given when we first escaped, an’ I believe he’ll hold to it. He doesn’t claim to be willin’ to do aught against the king; but at the same time swears to do nothin’ for him, an’ Abel Grant proposes that we take him on to help work the sloop.” Then I went on to explain yet more in detail all that we four had said while the matter was under discussion, to the end that Seth Hartley’s position might be the better understood, and, having come to an end, was more than surprised to hear the commander say in a cheery tone: “You may work it out in your own way, lad. If so be you and your ‘admiral’ have the faith in the promises of the prisoner, keep him with you, remembering, however, that at the first sign of his playing false you are to turn him over to the nearest military force. We are on the eve of a battle, and before hostilities begin I am expecting you Minute Boys will do yet further service for the cause. Go your way for to-night, and in the morning the lieutenant shall tell you what duty I would have you engage in.” It seemed to me this was sufficient intimation that the interview was at an end, and, making my best bow, but without venturing a word in reply, I backed out of the room, Abraham following, and Lieutenant Winterbottom saying in a whisper when we were just outside the door: “Since I have already heard the story of your adventures there is no reason why I should go with you to the sloop, and the general has business for me here. I will see you in the morning.” Then we three hurried away in the direction of Market Street, so eager to make report to the “admiral” that we did not venture to indulge in conversation on the way; but, having arrived near the sloop, Abraham said gleefully: “Let’s send Sam ahead in order to hear what Abel Grant will say at first sight of him.” And this we did, Abe and I following close behind, but standing in the cockpit when Sam entered the cuddy, and immediately was heard a cry of real terror from our “admiral,” who must have thought much as I did, that it was an apparition rather than a flesh and blood Minute Boy. During two or three minutes the uproar was so great that no one could hear what the other was saying, and then we settled down that Sam might tell how he contrived to make his way across Long Island. The story was a short one, and with but little of event. With no more in the way of food than the ship’s biscuit he took from the sloop, the lad traveled, without resting, all that night and during the next day, meeting but two who would have put any impediment in his way, and those he avoided by taking to his heels. Instead of going boldly through the villages he made detours, after day had come, and traversed the highways only when it became absolutely necessary.