The American farmers about the inn had borne with the British officer more because he was Jonas Benson’s guest than aught else. Before being sent by Lafe Holdness on this last errand to the army, Hadley knew that many of the neighbors spoke threateningly of the British officer, who, apparently, knew no fear even in an enemy’s country. If they should be stirred up now, after the disaster to the American forces, when feeling would be sure to run high, Colonel Knowles would find himself in very dangerous quarters. For the moment Hadley did not think of the danger to Mistress Lillian. He was only anxious for his uncle’s safety and enraged at Colonel Knowles for the part he believed the officer had in the plot to rob--and perhaps injure--the farmer. In an hour, so Brace Alwood said, they would attack the lonely homestead of the man whom the whole countryside believed to be a miser. Hadley had good reason to know that his uncle was possessed of much wealth, whether rightfully or not did not enter into the question now; but the money was no longer in the house--of that he was confident. Enraged at not finding it, the Tories might seriously injure Ephraim Morris. With these tumultuous thoughts filling his brain, the boy rode into the inn yard, let Black Molly find her old stall herself, and was on the steps of the inn before those in the kitchen had time to open the door, aroused though they had been by the rattle of the mare’s hoofs. “It’s a courier!” cried some one. “What’s the news?” “It’s that Hadley Morris!” exclaimed Mistress Benson, showing little cordiality in her welcome. Jonas was not in evidence, and there was no other men in the kitchen. “Where is Master Benson, madam?” demanded Hadley of the innkeeper’s wife. “I want him to help me--and all other true men in the neighborhood. There is a party of Tories up the road yonder, and they are going to attack Uncle Ephraim’s house and rob him this very night.” “Tories!” gasped the maids. “King’s men!” exclaimed Mistress Benson. “And why should they wish to plague Master Morris, Hadley? He is loyal.” “That Brace Alwood is at their head. They are bent on robbery. Nobody will be safe now, if they overrun the country. Where is Master Benson, I say?” “He is gone to Trenton,” declared one of the frightened women. “There is no man here but Colonel Knowles’ servant.” “Then he is here yet?” cried the boy, and pushing through the group of women, he entered the long hall which ran through the inn from the kitchen to the main entrance. His coming had evidently disturbed the guests. Colonel Knowles stood in the hall by the parlor door, a candlestick held above his head that the light might be cast along the passage, his daughter, clinging to his sleeve, stood behind him. “Whom have we here?” demanded the British officer. “It is Hadley Morris, father!” exclaimed the girl, first to recognize the youth.