Abraham had evidently spent no little time in making the place take on something of the appearance of a habitation, and Sam said in a tone of content as he seated himself on a big rock at the very edge of the hole, where could be had a clear view of the opposite shore: “I wonder you an’ I didn’t think of huntin’ for somethin’ like this, Eph! We can be as snug as bugs in a rug here, an’ I’m allowin’ we’d be well sheltered in case of a shower. Besides, it’s not such a bad place in which to sleep, an’ seein’s how there’s nothin’ for us to do ’twixt now an’ daylight, why not turn in, for one must travel to Wallabout an’ back when another night has come?” I was not inclined for sleep just then, having had my fill during the day; but because of the opportunity I stretched myself at full length on the sand, and speculated as to what we Minute Boys might yet be able to do in the way of proving ourselves capable of playing the part of men, until my eyes finally closed in slumber. When I awakened the day was just breaking, and, arousing Sam, we two crept down to the water’s edge where we washed our hands and faces, a most pleasing duty because of the heat, which promised to be great before noon. Then we ate from the store of food brought from Master Onderdonk’s, which was yet quite considerable, and settled down for a dreary time of watching. The red-coats were at work on the unwieldy barges when it was possible for us to distinguish objects on the opposite shore, and I had no doubt but that they had spent the night at the same task. So far as we could judge, those on the fleet had nothing better to do than idle the time away, and there was but little movement in the encampment. The forenoon was no more than half spent when, to our great surprise, Abraham suddenly appeared before the entrance to our cave, having approached so noiselessly that we had no hint of his coming. “Yes, I made good time,” he said in reply to my exclamation, throwing himself down on the sand as if weary to the verge of exhaustion. “I am allowin’ that one of you will go with the next report, an’ I can stay here until my legs are in better shape, for they are numb with much walkin’.” “But what about the prisoners?” I asked, irritated because he had not begun at once to tell the story, and he replied carelessly, as if the matter was of but little importance: “Oh, they are all right; Lieutenant Winterbottom has the curs in charge, an’ will turn them over to the magistrate.” “The magistrate?” I repeated. “What has the city authorities to do with them? Aren’t they prisoners of war?”