The Boy Spies of Philadelphia

by Joanna H. Mathews

  CHAPTER XI.

  A RECOGNITION.

  Enoch soon learned that the most difficult task which confronted him inhis new line of work was to persuade his mother he was not exposed toany more danger than he would be on the battlefield.

  She, remembering Seth's capture and narrow escape from the scaffold,insisted her son should refuse to assist Greene the spy in any way. Shewas willing for Enoch to enlist; but objected most strenuously to hisdoing that which, if discovered, would doom him to a disgraceful death.

  During the first two hours spent at home the boy used every argumentto convince her he would not be in any greater danger than he had beensince his release from jail, and not until he had begged she wouldconsent to his carrying on the work "because he had promised, and wouldbe ashamed to go back to camp with the excuse that his mother wouldnot allow him to do anything of the kind," did she give an unwillingconsent to the proposition.

  "I shall live in constant terror of hearing that you have been arrestedand sentenced to be hanged," she said finally; "but will try to hidesuch fears because you have given your word to cease playing the spy assoon as you can honorably leave the work and enter the army."

  Enoch was more than willing to agree to this; he preferred to serve hiscountry in any other way than that which he had just begun, and wouldwelcome the time when he could stand boldly before his friends andacquaintances as a Continental soldier.

  Agreeably to the promise made Greene, he was on the street as soon asdaylight, and during the entire day lounged around the city, listeningeagerly for scraps of important conversation whenever he passed a groupof men; but hearing nothing which might benefit his friends.

  Late in the afternoon he succeeded in gaining an interview with Seth'smother, and, by approaching the house from the rear, had been able togain access to the premises without being seen by any one save her.

  As a matter of course she was greatly rejoiced at learning that her sonwas safe and happy, but during the past few weeks she was not undulyanxious concerning him, for Lord Gordon assured her that since the boyhad not been brought back to Philadelphia he was unquestionably withthe Continental army.

  "It hardly seems as if Lord Gordon was an enemy of ours," the goodwoman said when she had finished telling Enoch of that gentleman'skindness. "He has acted the part of a true friend, and although herefuses to admit that he had any share in Seth's escape, I am positiveyou and Jacob could not have succeeded but for him."

  "He's a gentleman all the way through, that's what he is!" Enochreplied emphatically, "and I only wish we might have a chance to payhim for what he has done."

  It was not safe to prolong the interview lest some of Mrs. Graydon'sboarders should see the visitor and suspect he had just come fromValley Forge, therefore the boy left the house immediately his budgetof news had been unfolded.

  During the week which followed this visit Enoch worked industriouslyand conscientiously, spending his entire time on the streets, butwithout learning anything of importance.

  Just before daybreak each morning he went to the market-place, wherehe was certain of meeting Greene, but not once had he anything tocommunicate.

  "It seems as if I was wasting my time here," he said despondentlyon the morning of the eighth day when he and the spy were shelteredalike from the rain that was falling steadily and the observation ofthe enemy's patrols, through having sought shelter in a shed near themarket-place. "I walk around all the time; but hear nothing exceptwhat it is possible the peace commissioners may accomplish when theyarrive."

  "It isn't to be expected you can bring in valuable news when everythingis as quiet as appears now."

  "Yet I might be of service in the army."

  "No more than you are here. Except for the fact that they are drilledeach day, Seth and Jacob are as idle as you."

  "Has Jacob enlisted?"

  "Yes; he could not hold out longer against his father's commands.Old Chris was ashamed because his son did not appear eager to enterthe army, and declared that the boy should not leave the encampment,save as a soldier. Jacob tried twice to run away, but was stopped bythe guard, and when the last failure was reported to the old baker hedeclared the boy must earn his livelihood in some way, so set him towork in the bakery. That was not at all to Master Ludwick's liking,and twenty-four hours later he was in the same company with Seth. Inow make it a point never to visit camp without reporting to them as toyour safety."

  "Of course they know I am doing nothing."

  "They know, as do all your friends and acquaintances, that you are herein a post of danger, on the alert for whatever may chance to occur."

  "But there doesn't seem to be a likelihood anything of importance willhappen. Since Sir Henry Clinton has taken Howe's place as commanderof the army, it appears as if his plan was to remain idle, contentinghimself with depriving us of our capital."

  "His inaction is but the lull before the storm. General Washingtonfeels so positive some decided movement is planned for the near futurethat all the troops at Valley Forge are ready to act at a moment'snotice, and it is from you and I, as well as other friends of the causehere, that he expects to receive information which will enable himto checkmate the enemy. Don't grow despondent because you accomplishnothing great at once; but remember that the longer matters thus remainapparently stationary the nearer we are to a crisis."

  This conversation served to cheer Enoch wonderfully, and as the dayswent by his mother was more reconciled to the part he was playing,although she reminded him daily of the promise to give up his task asa spy at the first good opportunity.

  On the fourth of June, the king's birthday, Enoch saw the peacecommissioners enter the city, received with courtesy by Sir HenryClinton and his army, but neither the boy nor any true-minded Americanbelieved they would accomplish anything after General Washington hadpronounced so decidedly against treating with the king on other termsthan that of independence for the colonies.

  So far as Enoch could learn, the commissioners did nothing saveallow themselves to be entertained by the officers and Tory families.Congress refused to receive them until after the "hostile fleets andarmies had been withdrawn, or the independence of the United Statesacknowledged," and, so far as advancing the king's cause was concerned,they might as well have remained at home.

  Another week passed in what to Enoch seemed like idleness, and thenGreene electrified him by announcing:

  "Within a few days we shall see stirring times, and you will have nofurther cause to complain that you are doing nothing."

  "What have you heard?"

  "Nothing; but I have noticed that preparations are being quietly madefor a general move----"

  "I can't see that there has been any change."

  "Nothing to particularly attract attention, I'll admit; yet it is afact that the troops are nearly ready to evacuate the city, or make aforced march to Valley Forge for the purpose of attacking our camp."

  "Is it possible General Clinton would do that?"

  "It is possible, but not probable. My idea is that the Britishers willleave this city bag and baggage before we're many days older."

  "I don't understand why they should."

  "It is feared by the enemy that General Washington may strike a blow atNew York, and Clinton's troops are needed there to prevent a possibledisaster. Then again they are accomplishing nothing here, and theBritish government don't relish the idea of paying twelve or fifteenthousand men for holding a town which is of no real benefit, save as aloafing-place for the officers."

  "If they evacuate this city will they be allowed to go away withoutbeing molested?"

  "I think we can trust General Washington to take care of them, and whenyou see the redcoats start you can be mighty certain a battle ain't faroff."

  "And I won't be in it!" Enoch exclaimed mournfully. "Seth and Jacobwill play the part of soldiers, while I hang around here as if I wasafraid."

  "I promise faithfully that you shall be in the thick of any scrimmagethat comes, so don't let suc
h thoughts worry you. Have patience a fewdays longer, and keep your eyes open wider than usual."

  "Is there anything in particular to be done?"

  "Loiter around the City Tavern as much as possible. The officers maygive their friends an idea of what is going to happen, and you standa good chance of overhearing the gossip. The lightest hint now from aprominent Tory will have a big meaning."

  From this moment it appeared to Enoch as if he could perceive a changeof demeanor in those whom he met. The British officers no longersauntered to and fro as if time hung heavily on their hands, but wentfrom point to point rapidly, much as though they had business whichwould permit of no delay.

  The Tories, who during the winter had assumed a lordly bearing, nowlooked anxious, and well they might, for their lot would not be anenviable one when the Continental army stood in the place of theredcoats, and those who had been oppressed because of loyalty to thecause would be in a position to demand reprisals.

  It seemed to the boy as if nearly all whom he saw were aware of theimpending change, and he went about his business of listening with moreconfidence than ever before.

  On the night after his last conversation with Greene he saw anunusually large throng in front of the City Tavern, and, as a matter ofcourse, pretended to be on the point of entering the building in orderthat he might mingle with the bystanders.

  Ordinarily he would have moved slowly onward to prevent any one fromsuspecting he really wished to listen, but on this night, excitedbeyond the bounds of prudence, he deliberately halted in front of agroup composed of two officers, a citizen, and a Quaker who had theappearance of having just come from the country.

  "The fact is known to but few, and we depend upon our friends in whomwe have confided to keep it a secret," one of the officers was sayingas Enoch approached.

  "There is little doubt but that thy plans are known to the rebelWashington, for his men are ready to execute a quick movement," theQuaker replied. "It is to be regretted that any of the citizens weretrusted with thy secret, for all are not loyal to the king."

  "Very true, friend Williams; there are more of King George's enemies inPhiladelphia to-day than there were two weeks ago. The belief that hismajesty's troops are about to leave has made those who had a leaningtoward the rebels brave, and they now hope to find favor in the eyes ofthe new rulers of the city."

  "Has the day been fixed upon?" the man in citizen's garb asked, andEnoch pressed yet nearer to hear the reply.

  So eager was the boy to learn this most important bit of informationthat he gave no heed to the fact he was pressing against the Quakermore rudely than would have been proper even if they had been crowdedfor space, and before the officer could speak Enoch was seized suddenlyby the ear.

  Looking up quickly and in alarm, he saw that his captor was the Quaker,and now for the first time realized that the man's face was one he hadseen before, although where he could not remember.

  "Thou art an eavesdropper, lad, and one who makes it his calling, ifI do not mistake," the Quaker said sternly. "What business hast thouhere?"

  "I was going into the tavern, sir," Enoch replied, his cheekscrimsoning with shame, and then he tried to wrench himself freeregardless of the pain, for he recognized in his captor that Quakerat whose house General Lafayette had established his headquarters onBarren Hill.

  "Thou wast not thinking of going into the tavern--at least, not untilthou hadst learned the purport of our conversation. Have I not seenthee before?"

  "I have always lived in this city, and it may have been that you andI have passed each other on the street," Enoch replied, with muchstammering and show of confusion.

  "I have seen thee elsewhere, lad. Unless I much mistake thou wast onewho brought to the rebel Lafayette, when he was in my house, word thatGeneral Howe had started in pursuit of him."

  "What is that?" one of the officers asked quickly, stepping in frontof Enoch to peer into his face. "Are you certain this boy carried thatinformation, Friend Williams?"

  "It may be I am mistaken; but it does not seem possible. The lad muchresembled this one; I saw him only for a moment, yet then I had a fullview of his face."

  By this time several of the gentlemen nearest had gathered around tolearn the cause of the disturbance, for all, even including the Quaker,were displaying considerable excitement, and Enoch was so hemmed inthat escape seemed impossible.

  "It should be a simple matter to ascertain if he is in the rebelservice," the second officer suggested. "A squad of our men chased twoboys on that night, and, so it was reported, wounded or killed one ofthem. We will send this fellow to the guard-house until he has beenseen by all. I would like to get hold of a few spies before we leavethe city."

  Enoch knew that even if those who had chased Jacob and himself failedto identify him, there were very many British soldiers, as well asofficers, who knew him as one suspected of aiding Seth to escape, andthat his doom was sealed once he was in custody.

  It was absolutely necessary, if he would save his life, to makea supreme effort to get free before a squad of soldiers could besummoned, and even though he should fail, his position would be no moredesperate than it already was.

  The Quaker still retained his hold of the boy's ear, and one of theofficers was grasping him by the collar, while on every side the throngwas so dense that there appeared little hope he could force his waythrough, even though no one tried to detain him.

  It was, perhaps, because of this fact that the officer's hold was by nomeans firm; but the Quaker was clutching his ear as if anticipating anattempt at escape.

  The gentleman in the broad-brimmed hat was, therefore, the greatestobstacle in Enoch's road to freedom, and he it was who must bevanquished before further move could be made.

  One of the officers had gone in search of the guard, and Enoch resolvedon making a desperate effort.

  Hanging back as far as possible in order to give greater effect to theblow, he suddenly lowered his head and darted forward at full speed.

  The Quaker was taken by surprise, and could make no effort to protecthimself. Enoch launched against him with all his strength, bringingforth a shrill cry of pain as the man of peace was doubled up like apocket-knife, giving the boy an opportunity to leap directly over him.

  Two other men were thrown down, and those who had been on the outskirtsof the throng rushed quickly toward the immediate scene of action,thereby preventing the officer and his companion from giving chase.

  Enoch ran as he had never run before, knowing full well that his lifedepended upon fleetness of foot, and before the excited men were fullyaware of what had happened he was out of sight around the corner.

  A pile of logs an hundred yards distant seemed to offer a temporaryhiding-place, the whole being stacked up so loosely that he couldreadily make his way among them, and here he crouched, understandingthat if he threw the pursuers off the scent now there was a fairpossibility of escaping.

  Nothing could have been done better on Enoch's part.

  Such of the throng as were first around the corner shouted that theboy had taken refuge in the rear of the house, as seemed to be the casesince he was no longer in sight, and the building was instantly invadedby a mob eager to hunt down a spy.

  The shadows of evening were gathering, and Enoch knew if he couldremain hidden half an hour longer his chances of escape would be good;but yet it was not safe to stay amid the logs.

  As soon as it was learned that he had not taken refuge in the tavern,it would be suspected that he must have hidden in the immediatevicinity, and every nook and corner would be searched.

  He began to have some idea of how a fox must feel when the dogs are onhis scent, and the knowledge that he was battling for life removed, forthe time being, all sensation of fear.

  Creeping out to the very end of the logs he looked ahead.

  In that direction was no place where he could be hidden.

  In the rear two or three men at the corner of the building stood as ifexpecting he would appear at o
ne of the windows.

  "My only show is at the river," he said to himself. "If there's a boatafloat I may get away, and must take the chances."

  Waiting only long enough to make certain no one was looking toward thelog-pile, he darted out, stooping low that he might be the less likelyto attract attention, and bending all his energies toward maintaininga swift pace.

  Once he heard a loud shout, and he leaped forward yet more quickly,believing the pursuers were on his trail; but as he ran the noisedied away in the distance, and he understood that he was safe for themoment.

  There was no question in his mind but that every effort would be madeto capture him.

  He was suspected of aiding in Seth's escape; the Quaker declared he hadbrought to General Lafayette the first news of General Howe's advance,and he had been caught while trying to overhear a conversation whichwas intended to be private.

  "They've got proof enough that I'm a spy," he said to himself as heran, "and the hanging would come mighty quick after I was caught. Ishall be in a bad fix if I don't find a boat."

  On arriving at the water's edge his courage failed him, and he lookedwildly around, seeing no hope.

  The only boat in either direction was hauled high up on the shore, andwas so large that the united strength of two men would be no more thansufficient to move her. A short distance away, to the right, was asmall sloop heeled over on the sand as she had been left by the workmenengaged in caulking her bottom.

  Unless he made the desperate and dangerous attempt to swim across theriver, this sloop was the only available hiding-place, and he was sonearly out of breath that it was absolutely necessary he should halt afew moments before continuing the flight, if indeed that would be safenow so many were undoubtedly searching for him.

  There was no one to be seen on the land, and the ships of war lying atanchor in the river were so far away that he knew those on board couldnot distinguish him in the gloom.

  He clambered up the almost perpendicular deck of the sloop, and fromthence through the open hatchway into the hold.

  Now he could rest, but it must only be until night had fully come, andthen the flight was to be continued, unless before that time the enemyhad captured him.

  Crouching in the darkness of the tiny hold, panting so loudly from hissevere exertions that it seemed as if the pursuers must hear him, Enochtried to decide what his next move should be; but without arriving atany satisfactory conclusion.

  Unless some one came to the shore in a small boat, leaving the craftafloat, he could not escape to the Jersey side of the river, and evenif he gained the opposite bank there was no guarantee of his safety.

  He was not acquainted with any one there, and would be forced to takerefuge in the woods.

  It did not seem possible he could make his way to the house whereGreene professed to be working, for every patrol and sentry would be onthe alert to prevent his escape in that direction.

  "I shall have to go down the river, and take the chances of hidingin the woods," he said to himself. "It's a mighty slim show, but isconsiderably ahead of a Britisher's prison. I'll start in ten minutes,for by that time the night will have fully shut down, and trust to thechance of making my way along the shore."

  He had hardly thus decided upon his course of action when the sound offootsteps on the sand caused his heart to beat yet more furiously, andit surely seemed as if fate was against him when he heard voices nearat hand, as if the speakers had halted close beside the sloop.

  While one might have counted twenty Enoch was in such a tremor of fearas not to understand what was being said, and then he was aroused to asense of duty by hearing the words:

  "I have a copy of the order which will be issued on the sixteenth,and until then it must remain a profound secret, for Sir Henry isdetermined the rebels shall have no information of this move."

  "Already it is common talk that we are to evacuate the town, and theboy who was detected listening in front of the tavern had probably beensent to learn the date of the movement."

  "Did they capture him?"

  "No; but it is only a question of time, for men are out in everydirection, and it's certain he can't make his way toward the Americanlines unless all our patrols are asleep."