The Boy Spies of Philadelphia

"I believe that was Sir Henry's first intention; but fearing head winds might lengthen the passage, and that the rebel Washington would have an opportunity to capture New York, he has decided no such risks should be taken. For my part I am not unwilling to exchange this life of idleness for one of action, and hope we may see plenty of it."

"It appears quite evident your wish will be granted, for it is reported the rebels are in good condition for the summer campaign, and from the fact that they have so insolently rejected his majesty's proffers of peace I argue they are much stronger in numbers than ever before."

"However that may be, I care not; we shall soon whip out the overweening confidence in their own abilities, and before this campaign is ended I predict Congress will be suing for that which it has so promptly refused. Here comes a boat, and, if I mistake not, we shall learn considerably more of Sir Henry's intentions this evening than we already know."

The sound of footsteps on the sand told that the officers were moving toward the water's edge, and, shortly after, Enoch could distinguish the click of oars in the rowlocks.

Then came the short, quick orders of the coxswain in charge of the craft, and five minutes later a profound silence reigned.

The one thought now in Enoch's mind was, that he had learned that which it was of the utmost importance General Washington should know.

For the moment he forgot that armed men were searching for him in every direction, and that his capture was almost certain to be followed immediately by an ignominious death.

He had accomplished the mission with which he and Greene were intrusted, and it only remained to carry the information to headquarters.

With this thought came once more the realization of his utter helplessness and desperate situation.

It was possible he might remain undiscovered in his hiding-place until sunrise; but no longer, for then the laborers would resume work upon the sloop, and must unquestionably soon discover there was more in the hold than they had left there the night previous.

"It is more than my own life now that I am working for," the boy said to himself. "By repeating what I have heard General Washington will have a chance to strike a blow at the Britishers, and I shall indeed have been of service to the cause. That order is to be issued on the sixteenth, and the enemy will begin to leave on the seventeenth. There is plenty of time in which to carry the news, if I can succeed in finding Greene."

Fully alive to the importance of what he had learned, Enoch was now prepared to take greater risks than when it was only a question of saving his own life.

The personal danger appeared to have been lessened, and the one idea in his mind was to make known without unnecessary delay that which he had learned.

No sound broke the stillness of the night as the boy clambered up from his damp hiding-place until he could peer out through the hatchway.

The darkness shrouded everything, and as if the elements were in sympathy with his purpose, heavy clouds obscured even the light of the stars.

"I couldn't have a better chance, and if I don't get past the guards which have been set it will be because I am stupid," Enoch thought as he drew himself up to the combing of the hatchway and dropped noiselessly down on the sand beneath.

Here he stood motionless an instant to listen.

In the distance could be heard the noises of the city, but close at hand appeared to be no living thing save himself.

Following up the bank of the river to the creek, and then into Third Street, he went cautiously, ready at any moment to break into a run, or retreat as should be necessary.

To venture upon the street did not seem prudent, therefore he swam the upper end of the creek, and made his way by a zigzag course, avoiding the thoroughfares to traverse gardens and lawns, but all the while continuing on in as nearly a direct course as was consistent with safety toward the farmhouse where he believed Greene would be found.

More than once he heard the tramp of the patrol, and at such times he doubled here and there, moving cautiously as an Indian, and on the alert for the first sounds which should proclaim he was discovered.

An hour previous it had seemed impossible to him he could escape even the ordinary number of guards; but now when he knew they had been doubled, perhaps trebled, he instinctively – almost as if by chance – avoided them, until he was beyond the city and on the road over which Greene traveled when he brought his produce into the market.

Even now he knew he was far from safe, for squads of soldiers often patrolled the country roads at a distance of four or five miles from the town at a late hour in the night, and he fully believed that on this occasion scouting parties would be sent in every direction.

Had he heard the orders given, however, he would have known that the only precaution taken to prevent his escape was to double the number of guards around the town, and that those who were searching for him believed he was yet hidden in some building near the City Tavern. Consequently a rigorous search was being instituted in that quarter, while he was lessening each moment the distance between himself and the American camp.

Even when he was so far out in the country that the lights of the city could no longer be seen, he was afraid to travel at his utmost speed lest he should inadvertently come upon the patrol; but stopped at short intervals to listen.

Two hours passed, and during all this time he had continued steadily onward, without having heard anything to arouse his fears.

"Who would have believed I could have given them the slip so readily," he said to himself. "I thought when I jumped on board the sloop that I should only leave there as a prisoner, and perhaps if that order hadn't been read where I could hear it, I'd still be crouching in the hold waiting for the redcoats to pounce upon me. What a fool I was to so far forget myself as to brush up against that Quaker! Even if they hadn't suspected me of being a spy, I stood a chance of getting a flogging for my impudence. Yet suppose I hadn't been discovered? Then I shouldn't know the exact date set down for the evacuation of the city. Everything has happened in my favor, and – "

He ceased speaking very suddenly, for in the distance he could hear the sound of footsteps, and waiting only long enough to assure himself there had been no mistake, Enoch darted into the bushes that lined the road on either side at this point.

Then came the thought that it was nearly time for Greene to go into town, and pressing as closely to the edge of the road as was possible without showing himself, the boy waited until the pedestrian should appear.

After a short time he saw a single figure approaching with a burden upon his back; but the night was so dark that Enoch was unable to determine whether this was the man whom he hoped to meet or some enemy.

He hesitated to make himself known until he realized that if the spy should pass him he might have difficulty in carrying his news to Valley Forge, and, regardless of possible danger, cried softly:

"Robert Greene!"

The figure halted, looked around for a moment, and then was apparently about to resume the journey when Enoch asked in a low tone:

"Is that you, Mr. Greene?"

"I know no one of that name, and if it was mine wouldn't be willing to own it to one who is afraid to show himself."

Enoch recognized the voice, and springing forward with an exclamation of joy literally hugged the vegetable-laden spy.

"Is it you, Enoch?" Greene asked in surprise. "What has happened? Have you been in danger?"

"I was discovered by a Quaker at whose house General Lafayette lodged at Barren Hill, and seized by him and a British officer in front of the City Tavern."

"But how did you escape?"

"Come with me into the bushes, for I am afraid men will be sent out on this road, since you told the patrol I was in your employ."

When the two were screened from view of any who might chance to pass, Enoch told his story in all its details, interrupted only by low chuckles of satisfaction now and then, and exclamations of pleasurable surprise when the more important portions of his adventures were related.

"You have done a good work this night, lad! A brave work, and your seeming misfortunes were the luckiest that ever befell man or boy. I was not mistaken in you, lad."

"But I haven't done anything, Mr. Greene. It was all an accident, and one that came very near costing my life."

"Never mind how it came about. The work has been done, and we can carry to Valley Forge such news as has long been waited for – news that will change the condition of affairs there very decidedly."

As he spoke Greene sprang to his feet, and seizing Enoch by the arm went hurriedly into the road.

"Are you going to leave your market-truck?" Enoch asked.

"I would willingly leave everything on Rogers' farm to the mercy of the Britishers after such word had been brought, my boy. Now step out at your liveliest pace until we can get the horses, and then it is a question of a quick ride to headquarters to announce the fact that our work has been finished in the completest manner."

"But isn't it dangerous to go ahead too boldly? There may be soldiers between here and the farm."

"I will answer for it there are none, lad, for haven't I just traveled over this road? It is seldom they come out so far unless in goodly force."

"I thought perhaps scouts might be sent in every direction, for the two men whom I heard talking while I was in the sloop seemed very certain I'd be captured."