A chorus arose that caused the other frequenters of "The Honest Farmer"

to turn about in mild surprise.

"You could not have done us a greater kindness," said Ezra Prentiss to Colonel Knox. "The work of the camp is, of course, willingly undertaken by us all; but this is the sort of service that we most like."

"If you are pleased to go," returned the young colonel, "why, for the matter of that, I am equally pleased to have you. I have heard the stories of your doings since this war began; and of the services you rendered even before it started. They've long been abroad in the camp, as have the words uttered in your praise by Colonel Prescott, Mr. Adams, General Putnam and even Washington himself."

As the lads chorused their low-voiced agreement to ride with Colonel Knox upon this mission which promised so much, Gilbert Scarlett drew his sword belt tighter and leaned forward toward that officer.

"Sir," spoke he, "if you could contrive to make room for a volunteer in your company, I should be most pleased to make this venture under your leadership. It is true," and he waved his hand in a gesture of depreciation, "that I am not of this country and am rather a stranger to you all. But," here he reared his head proudly, "I have had some small experience in onfalls, ambuscades, sieges and other forms of warfare, in various parts of the world. So it is possible that I might be of service to you."

"Mr. Scarlett," said Colonel Knox, promptly, "I have heard of you. I accept your offer and am delighted to have you."

They talked for some little time upon the matter; then the young colonel arose.

"Just when I shall start," said he, "is a matter of doubt; but it will not be until I can be sure of the ice and snow, which will act such important parts in my plan. However, when we do start," and he said this with quiet confidence, "we will make all speed and it will not be long thereafter until the King's guns will be turned upon his governor. And then Boston shall be ours!"

The boys and Scarlett accompanied him to the door and out into the night. Here the colonel began saying something that seemed to interest them; and all but Ezra walked along with him toward his quarters.

Ezra, as he gave a quick look over his shoulder in the doorway, saw the three men at the inn table arise. He closed the door; and as his friends walked slowly away with Colonel Knox, he stepped back into the shadow and waited.

It was the smaller of the two sailor-like men who opened the door of "The Honest Farmer." His thin face went this way and that, apparently in quest of those who had just left. As he caught the cautious questioning way the man had of holding his head, Ezra gasped in astonishment.

"It's Jason Collyer!" he muttered.

Collyer's two friends appeared directly behind him. As he saw him in motion, Ezra had no difficulty in recognizing the larger of these.

"It's Abdallah," he told himself. "There is no mistaking that measured step."

"They have gone in that direction," said Collyer, pointing down the dark street. "Shall we follow them?"

"There is no need," spoke Abdallah, and his voice was as smooth as ever.

"We have learned all that they can tell."

"It was luck that made you want to follow them here when you saw them on the way," said Collyer to the old man. "I confess, sir, I thought it but a waste of time, myself."

The door of "The Honest Farmer" was now closed; but from a window a broad beam of light streamed out upon the stones. The men stood upon the margin of this and could be plainly seen as they faced away from Ezra, their eyes trying to follow Colonel Knox and the boys.

"Fortune," said Abdallah, "is a queer thing. Sometimes it smiles upon us; and at others, it frowns. And all for no reason that we can see.

Take that last night at my house for example. Everything had gone well, when suddenly that boy"-and he pointed down the dark street, "rode up and changed everything by his shrewdness."

Here the old man gestured angrily and was about to speak. But Abdallah stopped him.

"It is no time for faultfinding or resentment," said he, gently. "Rather it is one for self-congratulation. He beat us then, but we will beat him now. When they ride to Ticonderoga for the guns, they will have their labor for their pains. We," and he laughed softly, "will have been there ahead of them."

"Don't be so sure of that," said Ezra Prentiss, quietly.

He took a step forward as he spoke. The men whirled about with exclamations and stood staring at him as the light from the window fell upon his face. At the same time a steady tramp of feet was heard; the flash of lanthorns came up and down the street. Patrols of continentals were coming from both directions.

"It is always best to make sure of what you say before you say it,"

resumed the boy. "When we reach Ticonderoga, the guns will still be there; but you will be here, awaiting the judgment of a drumhead court, as spies."

A gasp of dismay went up from the ferret-like Collyer; but Abdallah held up a hand for silence. He addressed Ezra.

"Spies?" said he, gently. "That would be a rough-hewn fate indeed. Think what is meted out to such offenders."

"It is death," said Ezra, solemnly.

"And would you deliver us up to that?"

"It is not for me to pa.s.s judgment," answered the lad. "I leave that for my superiors."

"But," and there was a curious note in Abdallah's voice that caught the boy's attention, "you shall decide, for all! And your decision will be in our favor."

"You shall see in a moment," spoke Ezra Prentiss, gravely. "Here comes the American patrol. What is to hinder my giving you up to them?"

"This," said Abdallah.

As he spoke he thrust the old man, who bore him company, forward suddenly. For the first time, Ezra saw this latter plainly.

"Grandfather," he cried chokingly.

The old merchant lifted a hand as though about to denounce the lad; but Abdallah drew him back with a fierce whispered word of warning.

"If we are spies," then said Abdallah to Ezra, "so is your grandfather.

If you give us up to those men," and his eyes went toward the patrols, who were now abreast of them, "you must also give him up. And remember,"

all the gentleness out of his voice and manner, "to give him up means death!"

He paused a moment and then said with a low laugh:

"Speak up; what shall it be? Shall we go or stay?"

And Ezra, his heart frozen with fear, stared first at the patrols and then at his grandfather. Then both hands went up and he gestured them stupidly away.

Instantly they turned and obeyed; within a moment the night had swallowed them up; but still the boy stood there as one turned to stone.

"To save my grandfather's life, I have made myself a traitor to the cause," he whispered to himself. "But I could not help it," a sob swelling in his throat, "I could not help it."

CHAPTER XVII

TELLS OF A RIDE THROUGH THE WILDERNESS AND OF HOW TICONDEROGA'S GUNS BEGAN THEIR JOURNEY

For two days Ezra Prentiss was burdened with the thought of what he had done. His friends wondered at his pale face and dejected manner; they questioned him, but could get nothing but evasive replies.

But one morning as the lad arose he determined to have done with it all.