Again Pierre and I looked at each other in amazement, and I must also add with no little of disappointment. We had been flattering ourselves that it might be possible for us to play the spy upon the Britishers, and thereby earn much of credit for our small company of Minute Boys, never for the moment dreaming that there might be others in the village who were playing the same part; but surely not allowing that an old negro, a slave, might be employed in the same work. "It begins to look as if we were not needed very much in this town of York," Pierre said after a brief time of silence, and I could well understand by the tone of his voice how disappointed he was because thus suddenly had we been shown that the American army could well dispense with our services, since others were engaged in the work we would have taken up. "I'm not so certain, Pierre, but that your skill at reading the meaning of military moments will yet prove of great value," I exclaimed as a happy thought came into my mind. "It isn't possible old Joe would be able to tell what the British are doing here, with so much exactness as you who seem to be familiar with such work. There's no good reason why we shouldn't continue to pick up all the information possible, and if we find that we have gained more than has Colonel Peyton's negro, then one of us shall make his way to Williamsburg, after we have Horry Sims stowed snugly away in the loft." It appeared, as we understood from Uncle 'Rasmus's story, when he told it later, that old Joe had by accident seen him sitting at the cabin window, and, quite naturally, come in, when explanations followed. As both Pierre and I came to realize, instead of grieving over the fact that this slave of Colonel Peyton's was playing the spy in the town of York, we should have rejoiced, for here was at least one person who might be able to aid us in a time of extremity. Surely, situated as we lads then were, with a prisoner on our hands, even the assistance of an old slave who was free to move about within the encampment as he pleased, might be of great value. After we had turned the matter over and over in our minds, discussing what seemed much like a new phase of the situation, Uncle 'Rasmus advised that we did not venture out again until the time had come when we could relieve Saul from his duties as jailor by bringing Horry Sims to the cabin. The old negro argued, and with much of wisdom it seemed to me, that having been through the encampment more than once, seemingly bent on curiosity, there was no good reason why we should do so again. He contended that it would not be wise to show ourselves too often during one day, and urged that we remain concealed until the time arrived when we were to perform our task of the night.