“Ephraim Morris is his name, sir. We live hard by the Three Oaks, across the river. I work for Jonas Benson, who keeps the inn.” “We have record of this Ephraim Morris,” said a dark-faced man in the corner, looking from under lowering brows at the boy. “As rank a Tory as there is in all Jersey. I’d not put too much trust in what the boy brings, gentlemen, if he’s Miser Morris’s nephew.” The words stung Hadley to the quick. Unconsciously he squared his shoulders, and his eyes flashed as he looked in the direction of the last speaker. “My uncle refuses me permission to join the army, it is true,” he said, chokingly; “but he has no power to change my opinions.” For an instant there was silence. Washington flashed a glance at Colonel Cadwalader. “Master Morris,” Washington said, “we doubt not that you have good reasons for not enlisting. But I believe you are in sympathy with us and heed your country’s peril. You live in a community where you may be of great benefit to us in the future. You have mentioned a man named Holdness. You know him well?” “Yes, sir.” “Then deliver this note to him when next he passes the Three Oaks Inn. He will return on the morrow or next day, I hear. Meanwhile be always ready to serve the cause as you did last night, and, despite your uncle’s prohibition against your joining the army, we shall count you among our most useful servants. What say you, Mr. Cadwalader?” The colonel bowed. “My mind exactly, General,” he said. “This will pass you through the outposts,” the Commander said, handing the two papers he had written to Hadley. “The colonel tells me you have a horse not many miles from here. I wish you a safe return.” Too disturbed to scarce know what he replied, young Morris got out of the room, and not until he reached the open highway did he take a free breath. And all the way back to the farmhouse where Molly had been left, he grew hot and cold by turns as he thought of the awkward figure he must have cut in the presence of the leader of the American cause. It was mid-afternoon ere he recovered his horse and started for the river. Molly had been refreshed and carried him swiftly over the road to the regular ferry, where he had been unable to cross the night before. He met with no difficulty in passing the outposts and such scouting parties of the American army as he met. There was no sign of British soldiery upon this side of the river. He crossed the ferry at dark, and three hours later rode quietly into the inn yard from the rear and put Black Molly into her stall. Then he approached the house, wondering what reception he should meet if Colonel Knowles and his daughter were still sheltered there. [TO BE CONTINUED] [Illustration] THE FRESHMAN BANQUET BY HARRIET WHEELER