Who had sent the messenger? Was it the smith? If so, how did he reconcile the assertion that he had no concern with one side or the other? Then again, if his leaning was toward us who were fighting against the king, how did he come to know that Seth Hastings was a traitor, or that we Minute Boys were most eager to lay hands upon him? With all our tongue-wagging we could find no answer to these questions, and we sat there perplexed, feeling that perhaps we might get our hands upon the young scoundrel if we obeyed the summons, and yet halting lest we prove ourselves simples by falling into what looked to be a trap. I question if we could have settled the matter ourselves even though discussing it four and twenty hours, but when we were most sorely perplexed, wavering as to whether we should go or stay, a happy thought came to Gabriel, and he gave it words by saying: “I am not of the mind to believe, without better proof, that any one in this Tory-ridden section of the Carolinas would try to do us such a favor, even though he knew Seth Hastings and what he had done. Now, because by remaining here idle we may lose an opportunity so greatly desired, or by going fall into a trap, I propose that we lay the matter before Master Paul Sawyer, who should be a good judge, and follow his decision.” To this we were already agreed without argument, not only because we had faith in Master Sawyer, but in order that one of our elders might settle the question, thereby taking from us some of the blame in case we ventured into a hole from which we could not retreat. To the end that no talk might be made which was not heard by all the company, Gabriel proposed that Jared Green should go in search of Master Sawyer, asking him to join us for a moment, and without explaining the reason. This was done. In less than five minutes the gentleman stood before us, still wearing the same quizzical expression as when he railed at us for being like mutes at a funeral. Without using more words than was necessary, Gabriel explained what we would have him judge upon, simply saying that Master Davis’s daughter had brought us the message, and repeating what she had told concerning this smith near whose forge we were to find, perhaps, the lad we sought. Master Sawyer turned it over and over in his mind until I began to think he would never make reply, so impatient was I lest we should, by remaining idle many moments longer, lose the chance of paying off that score to which Seth Hastings was adding every hour. “It is an odd business, lads, look at it as you may,” Master Sawyer said finally, and much to my relief. “It has in it the look of a trap, and at the same time there are chances that some one well disposed toward the Cause, knowing how much mischief that young viper would have wrought, may be trying to do a good turn.” “But I question if there be any hereabout who know what Seth has done.”