CHAPTER XXVII

IN CAMP

"Count noses, Andy, and be quick about it," said Phil hastily.

"My own squad are all here, Phil. Look to your own Musket Boys. If the tally's right, we'd better take leg bail, for the mischief is done, and--here come the Tories!"

It was a new scene, that occupied by Phil, Andy and others, the time nightfall, the spot opposite Boston, near Cambridge.

Some twenty boys bubbling over with animation and excitement surrounded Phil and Andy. Each ran his eye over the two groups of which the crowd was composed.

"All here," sang out Phil. "Run for it fellows!"

Down the bank of the Charles river Phil and Andy started on a keen run, their laughing, gossiping comrades following them. They left behind them a large yawl and several men, rushing towards it. Out in the stream there bobbed up some bulky bales and parcels, floating swiftly with the current.

"Didn't even see us," said Andy triumphantly, slowing down his gait. "Trick number two--inside of a week. Those fellows will think it wise to leave a guard on their plunder, the next time."

"We don't want to try it too often," advised Phil. "They may set a trap for us."

The occasion was a raid on the enemy at close quarters. Affairs had changed for Phil and Andy and their friends during a month's rapid and exciting flight. They were now real soldiers, for the continental army was an actual fact, and they were members of it.

After the defeat at Concord, Gen. Gage's troops had ventured on no more forays into the surrounding country. The raiders were taught a lasting lesson, and had met with a terrible experience in their retreat to Boston where every inch of the way was disputed. Utterly routed, harassed at every town and hedgerow by patriot skirmishers, a forlorn, defeated remnant of the original invading force, they had skulked back into Boston, "very small potatoes," indeed!

They had shut the loyalists out of Boston. Now the loyalists retaliated by shutting the redcoats and Tories into Boston. In fact, the city was beleaguered. There were points open to the British for an occasional brief foray into the country across the Charles river, but they did not dare to go far, for the country, fully aroused by the Concord incident, had sprung to arms instantly. The result was the formation of the continental army all over the land, and the New England forces, forming a well-disciplined camp at Cambridge, virtually held the Boston redcoats passive.

Everybody in the colonies was enlisting. Andy had selected nearly a dozen of the older boys of the Concord marching club, and had signed the military roster.

The party, including himself, Phil and Ralph, had gone to Cambridge. They were accepted as volunteers a day or two afterwards. Many members of the Musket Boys of Boston managed to cross the river undiscovered in the dark, and Phil found himself a juvenile leader with his dear old chums under his official wing, ready to battle for him and the cause of liberty.

They had managed to rig up a uniform that distinguished them from the every-day home boy. They had tents of their own, were under the orders of strict superiors, and did sentinel duty with their older comrades in the service.

The boys fell into the new camp life as if they had been brought up to it. They were useful in many ways to the general service. Phil had not yet gone to Boston. It would have been a risky experiment, and, besides, he felt that his duty lay with the army, and he put off the visit from day to day. His folks had received the message sent by the carrier pigeons, so they were assured of his safety, and his volunteer chums had brought him messages from home when they came to join the army.

One night Phil and Andy and their comrades came across a sailboat, evidently belonging to some Tories who had stolen across the river probably to exchange sentiments with emissaries from the interior. They were warmly commended in camp when they reported this prize moored near its river confines.

Now for the second time they had made a successful foray. They had watched from ambush that afternoon a squad of redcoats cross the river in the big yawl they had just despoiled. The men had left the boat and had gone into the country to collect flour, horse feed and other supplies, paying for them in some instances, and in others intimidating the farmers into giving them the articles for nothing.

The boys kept on the watch until dark, and saw the raiders load up the yawl with their plunder. Somewhere the Tories had got a supply of "fire water." They one and all congregated in a little copse near by to indulge in a free jollification before returning to camp. Phil and Andy had directed a cautious visit to the boat. The Musket Boys had taken prompt action. Every package aboard was dumped into the creek, and the despoilers had fled in safety just as the Britishers detected the trick that had been played upon them.

"Some one to see you, Warrington," said a sentinel, as the party of young marauders passed into the camp.

"That so?" returned Phil. "Who was it? Is he here now?"

"Yes. About twenty new Boston recruits came in to-night. They've been two days coming by the Breed's Hill route. Forty started, but got blocked. This man is a neighbor of your family, and he had some message for you, I believe."

"I hope there is no bad news," murmured Phil.

He hurried to the little group of tents where the Musket Boys were encamped. There was one big tent where half-a-dozen of them bunked. There was a light in this, and Phil heard conversation within, pulled open the entrance flap, and noticed a man he knew seated among several of the boys.

"How are you, Phil?" the newcomer said arising and greeting the boy with a hearty handshake. "You see, we are all moving into your camp gradually."

"I am glad to see you, Mr. Monroe," replied Phil. "How are the folks?"

"All well, Phil, only there has been a little trouble, and your mother wanted me to see you. She sends her love, and has given me some money to give you."

"And father--" began Phil.

"Well, Phil," said Mr. Monroe, "your father is paying the penalty for being true to his country. You know he and Mr. Powell and Mr. Clinton have been most active in encouraging recruits for the army and smuggling them out of Boston. Gen. Gage got wrathy at their success. He ordered their arrest three days ago, and they are now prisoners."

"The tyrants! the scoundrels!" flashed out Andy, who had accompanied Phil and now overheard the conversation.

Phil was a little pale and worried.

"What will they do with my father and the others, Mr. Monroe?" he questioned.

"I don't think they can do anything much," replied Mr. Monroe. "In the first place, your father's loyal friends won't appear as witnesses. In the next place, if the British proceed to any extreme measures, they will raise a riot. It is only by constantly parading their militia and firearms that they depress the loyal people of Boston. We are all very sorry, for since it has been planned to have George Washington take command of the army and introduce some organization and discipline, they have been selecting good men as officers, and I believe it was the intention of your father and his two fellow prisoners to join us in coming over here to go into active service."

"That settles it. They shall come!" cried Andy Sabine, whipping out of the tent, on fire with some new idea that had entered that active mind of his.

Phil did not see his chum again that night. The Boston boy reflected a good deal over the unfortunate situation of his father. He was afraid that a charge of treason might be made against his parent by the Tories. Mr. Warrington and his colleagues might be transported to England, which in those days meant life imprisonment or death.

Phil saw his commanding officer early in the morning and had a talk with him over the troubles of the imprisoned patriots. That official intimated to him that if his father was a member of the continental army in open conflict with the British, they could not make the charge of treason, as they might on a subterfuge while he was a mere citizen under direct British rule.

"If your father could escape and join the army before any definite charges were made against him, he would be free from any of Gage's kidnapping-hanging tactics," explained the officer.

"Then a way must be found to rescue my father and his friends," declared Phil.

He thought over the situation all that morning, and had a talk with Ralph Post. Together they went to see the commanding general. Phil asked for a week's leave of absence from duty, and he frankly told the general that it was his plan to get into Boston in some way to rescue his father and his friends and to get them safely out to Cambridge. The general listened gravely to the project. Then he said:

"You are a brave young fellow, Warrington, and a loyal son. I wish we could help you. You are welcome to the leave, and take as many of your comrades as you need. We wished to get some important information to friends in Boston, and if you decide to attempt to get through the lines report to me and I will give you a letter. I hope you will be able to deliver it at a certain address in the city."

"Thank you," said Phil, and retired to find Andy waiting for him impatiently in the main tent of the Musket Boys.

"Andy, I'm going to Boston," announced the boy impulsively.

"Of course you are," nodded Andy, without betraying any surprise whatever, "and I'm going with you. I've been thinking it over all night long, and planning for it all morning."

"Oh, you have," murmured Phil.

"Think I'd leave you in the lurch? Think for a moment we're going to leave your father in trouble? No, sir! Before midnight you and I will be in Boston. I've arranged it all. I've got a scheme that will get us across the Charles river as easy as rolling off a log."