"When they began to sign the parchment he smiled and said:

"'Gentlemen, Benjamin Franklin should have written this doc.u.ment. The committee, however, knew well that he would be sure to put a joke in it.'

"'Let me remind you that behind it all is the greatest joke in history,' said the philosopher.

"'What is that?' Mr. Jefferson asked,

"'The British House of Lords,' said Franklin.

"A smile broke through the cloud of solemnity on those many faces, and was followed by a little ripple of laughter.

"'The committee wishes you all to know that it is indebted to Doctor Franklin for wise revision of the instrument,' said Mr. Jefferson.

"When the last man had signed, Mr. Jefferson rose and said:

"'Gentlemen, we have taken a long and important step. On this new ground we must hang together to the end.'

"'We must all hang together or a.s.suredly we shall all hang separately,'

said Franklin with that gentle, fatherly smile of his.

"Again the signers laughed.

"Last night I heard Patrick Henry speak. He thrilled us with his eloquence. He is a spare but rugged man, whose hands have been used to toil like my own. They tell me that he was a small merchant, farmer and bar-keeper down in Virginia before he became a lawyer and that he educated himself largely by the reading of history. He has a rapid, magnificent diction, slightly flavored with the accent of the Scot."

2

In August, Howe had moved a part of his army from Halifax to Staten Island and offensive operations were daily expected in Washington's army. Jack hurried to his regiment, then in camp with others on the heights back of Brooklyn. The troops there were not ready for a strong attack. General Greene, who was in command of the division, had suddenly fallen ill. Jack crossed the river the night of his arrival with a message to General Washington. The latter returned with the young Colonel to survey the situation. They found Solomon at headquarters. He had discovered British scouts in the wooded country near Gravesend. He and Jack were detailed to keep watch of that part of the island and its sh.o.r.es with horses posted at convenient points so that, if necessary, they could make quick reports.

Next day, far beyond the outposts in the bush, they tied their horses in the little stable near Remsen's cabin on the south road and went on afoot through the bush. Jack used to tell his friends that the singular alertness and skill of Solomon had never been so apparent as in the adventures of that day.

"Go careful," Solomon warned as they parted. "Keep a-goin' south an'

don't worry 'bout me."

"I thought that I knew how to be careful, but Solomon took the conceit out of me," Jack was wont to say. "I was walking along in the bush late that day when I thought I saw a move far ahead. I stopped and suddenly discovered that Solomon was standing beside me.

"I was so startled that I almost let a yelp out of me.

"He beckoned to me and I followed him. He began to walk about as fast as I had ever seen him go. He had been looking for me. Soon he slowed his gait and said in a low voice:

"'Ain't ye a leetle bit car'less? An Injun wouldn't have no trouble smashin' yer head with a tommyhawk. In this 'ere business ye got to have a swivel in yer neck an' keep 'er twistin'. Ye got to know what's goin' on a-fore an' behind ye an' on both sides. We must p'int fer camp. This mornin' the British begun to land an army at Gravesend.

Out on the road they's waggin loads o' old folks an' women, an' babies on their way to Brooklyn. We got to skitter 'long. Some o' their skirmishers have been workin' back two ways an' may have us cut off.'"

Suddenly Solomon stopped and lifted his hand and listened. Then he dropped and put his ear to the ground. He beckoned to Jack, who crept near him.

"Somebody's nigh us afore an' behind," he whispered. "We better hide till dark comes. You crawl into that ol' holler log. I'll nose myself under a brush pile."

They were in a burnt slash where the soft timber had been cut some time before. The land was covered with a thick, spotty growth of poplar and wild cherry and brush heaps and logs half-rotted. The piece of timber to which Solomon had referred was the base log of a giant hemlock abandoned, no doubt, because, when cut, it was found to be a sh.e.l.l. It was open only at the b.u.t.t end. Its opening was covered by an immense cobweb. Jack brushed it away and crept backward into the sh.e.l.l. He observed that many black hairs were caught upon the rough sides of this singular chamber. Through the winter it must have been the den of a black bear. As soon as he had settled down, with his face some two feet from the sunlit air of the outer world. Jack observed that the industrious spider had begun again to throw his silvery veil over the great hole in the log's end. He watched the process. First the outer lines of the structure were woven across the edges of the opening and made fast at points around its imperfect circle. Then the weaver dropped to opposite points, unreeling his slender rope behind him and making it taut and fast. He was no slow and clumsy workman. He knew his task and rushed about, rapidly strengthening his structure with parallel lines, having a common center, until his silken floor was in place again and ready for the death dance of flies and bees and wasps.

Soon a b.u.mble bee was kicking and quivering like a stricken ox on its surface. The spider rushed upon him and buried his knives in the back and sides of his prey. The young man's observation of this interesting process was interrupted by the sound of voices and the tread of feet.

They were British voices.

"They came this way. I saw them when they turned," a voice was saying.

"If I had been a little closer, I could have potted both men with one bullet."

"Why didn't you take a shot anyhow?" another asked.

"I was creeping up, trying to get closer. They have had to hide or run upon the heels of our people."

A number of men were now sitting on the very log in which Jack was hidden. The young scout saw the legs of a man standing opposite the open end of the log. Then these memorable words were spoken:

"This log is good cover for a man to hide in, but n.o.body is hid in it.

There's a big spider's web over the opening."

There was more talk, in which it came out that nine thousand men were crossing to Gravesend.

"Come on, boys, I'm going back," said one of the party. Whereupon they went away.

Dusk was falling. Jack waited for a move from Solomon. In a few minutes he heard a stir in the brush. Then he could dimly see the face of his friend beyond the spider's web.

"Come on, my son," the latter whispered. With a feeling of real regret, Jack rent the veil of the spider and came out of his hiding-place. He brushed the silken threads from his hair and brow as he whispered:

"That old spider saved me--good luck to him!"

"We'll keep clus together," Solomon whispered. "We got to push right on an' work 'round 'em. If any one gits in our way, he'll have to change worlds sudden, that's all. We mus' git to them hosses 'fore midnight."

Darkness had fallen, but the moon was rising when they set out.

Solomon led the way, with that long, loose stride of his. Their moccasined feet were about as noiseless as a cat's. On and on they went until Solomon stopped suddenly and stood listening and peering into the dark bush beyond. Jack could hear and see nothing. Solomon turned and took a new direction without a word and moving with the stealth of a hunted Indian. Jack followed closely. Soon they were sinking to their knees in a mossy tamarack swamp, but a few minutes of hard travel brought them to the sh.o.r.e of a pond.

"Wait here till I git the canoe," Solomon whispered.

The latter crept into a thicket and soon Jack could hear him cautiously shoving his canoe into the water. A little later the young man sat in the middle of the sh.e.l.l of birch bark while Solomon knelt in its stern with his paddle. Silently he pushed through the lilied margin of the pond into clear water. The moon was hidden behind the woods. The still surface of the pond was now a glossy, dark plane between two starry deeps--one above, the other beneath. In the shadow of the forest, near the far sh.o.r.e, Solomon stopped and lifted his voice in the long, weird cry of the great bush owl. This he repeated three times, when there came an answer out of the woods.

"That's a warnin' fer ol' Joe Thrasher," Solomon whispered. "He'll go out an' wake up the folks on his road an' start 'em movin'."

They landed and Solomon hid his canoe in a thicket.

"Now we kin skitter right long, but I tell ye we got purty clus to 'em back thar."

"How did you know it?"

"Got a whiff o' smoke. They was strung out from the pond landing over 'crost the trail. They didn't cover the swamp. Must 'a' had a fire for tea early in the evenin'. Wherever they's an Englishman, thar's got to be tea."

Before midnight they reached Remsen's barn and about two o'clock entered the camp on lathering horses. As they dismounted, looking back from the heights of Brooklyn toward the southeast, they could see a great light from many fires, the flames of which were leaping into the sky.

"Guess the farmers have set their wheat stacks afire," said Solomon.

"They're all scairt an' started fer town."