"All well, Phil, only there has been a little trouble, and your mother wanted me to see you. She sends her love, and has given me some money to give you." "And father--" began Phil. "Well, Phil," said Mr. Monroe, "your father is paying the penalty for being true to his country. You know he and Mr. Powell and Mr. Clinton have been most active in encouraging recruits for the army and smuggling them out of Boston. Gen. Gage got wrathy at their success. He ordered their arrest three days ago, and they are now prisoners." "The tyrants! the scoundrels!" flashed out Andy, who had accompanied Phil and now overheard the conversation. Phil was a little pale and worried. "What will they do with my father and the others, Mr. Monroe?" he questioned. "I don't think they can do anything much," replied Mr. Monroe. "In the first place, your father's loyal friends won't appear as witnesses. In the next place, if the British proceed to any extreme measures, they will raise a riot. It is only by constantly parading their militia and firearms that they depress the loyal people of Boston. We are all very sorry, for since it has been planned to have George Washington take command of the army and introduce some organization and discipline, they have been selecting good men as officers, and I believe it was the intention of your father and his two fellow prisoners to join us in coming over here to go into active service." "That settles it. They shall come!" cried Andy Sabine, whipping out of the tent, on fire with some new idea that had entered that active mind of his. Phil did not see his chum again that night. The Boston boy reflected a good deal over the unfortunate situation of his father. He was afraid that a charge of treason might be made against his parent by the Tories. Mr. Warrington and his colleagues might be transported to England, which in those days meant life imprisonment or death. Phil saw his commanding officer early in the morning and had a talk with him over the troubles of the imprisoned patriots. That official intimated to him that if his father was a member of the continental army in open conflict with the British, they could not make the charge of treason, as they might on a subterfuge while he was a mere citizen under direct British rule. "If your father could escape and join the army before any definite charges were made against him, he would be free from any of Gage's kidnapping-hanging tactics," explained the officer. "Then a way must be found to rescue my father and his friends," declared Phil. He thought over the situation all that morning, and had a talk with Ralph Post. Together they went to see the commanding general. Phil asked for a week's leave of absence from duty, and he frankly told the general that it was his plan to get into Boston in some way to rescue his father and his friends and to get them safely out to Cambridge. The general listened gravely to the project. Then he said: