Hadley, as they drove slowly through the camp, gave Black Molly over into Captain Prentice’s care. Not until they were beyond the picket lines of the Americans entirely did Holdness offer any explanation of the work before them. “We’re goin’ ter stop at a place an’ take a load of grain into Philadelphy,” he began. “I ’greed ter do this last week. I aint sayin’ but I’d like ter turn about an’ cart it inter aout lines; but that can’t be. The man ’at owns it is a Tory an’ he’s shippin’ his grain inter town so as to save it from the ’Mericans. He’s got his convictions, same’s we’ve got ourn; ’taint so bad for him to sell ter them Britishers as it is for some o’ these folks ’t claim ter have the good of the cause at heart, an’ yet won’t take scrip fer their goods.” When they came to the farmer’s in question the great wagon was heavily loaded with sacks of grain. Hadley, who had so plainly seen the need of such commodity in the American camp, suggested that they take a roundabout way and deliver the sacks of grain to their friends instead of to the British, without the Tory being any the wiser. “And spile my game?” cried Lafe, with a chuckle. “I guess not. Reckon His Excellency wouldn’t thank us for that. I’m wuth more to him takin’ the stuff into Philadelphy than the grain would be. We’re goin’ in there to git some information. Hadley, my son--this ain’t no pleasure ja’nt.” “But what can I do?” queried the boy. “What you’re told--and I reckon you’ve l’arned that already with Gin’ral Wayne. A boy like yeou can git ’round ’mongst folks without being suspicioned better’n me. It’s whispered, Hadley, that them Britishers contemplate making a sortie on aour camp. You know the state we’re in--God help us!--an’ if the British mean to attack we must know it and be ready for them. Every crumb of information you can pick up must be treasured. I’ll take ye to Jothan Pye an’ you can be an apprentice of his. He kin git you access to the very houses in which some o’ them big bugs is quartered. If plans are really laid for an attack, you’ll hear whispers of it. Them whispers yeou’ll give to me, sonny. D’ye understand?” Hadley nodded. He understood what was expected of him; also he understood that the mission would be perilous. But he had been in danger before, and he did not lack some measure of confidence in himself now. The huge wagon rumbled on toward the British lines. When they were halted, Lafe managed to give such a good account of himself that he was allowed to pass through with little questioning, for the grain was assigned to the quartermaster’s department. Hadley was simply considered a country bumpkin who had come into town to see the sights. Soon the old scout and the boy separated, Hadley making his way swiftly to the Quaker’s habitation near the Indian Queen, where good Mistress Pye welcomed him warmly.