him. The clearings toward the sea make the work arduous
and full of danger. It is only for men of your strength and courage.
Major Bartlett knows the part of the line which Colonel Binkus
traversed. He will be going out that way to-morrow. I should like
you, sir, to go with him. After one trip I shall be greatly pleased if
you are capable of doing the work alone."

Orders were delivered and Jack reported to Bartlett, an agreeable,
middle-aged farmer-soldier, who had been on scout duty since July.
They left camp together next morning an hour before reveille. They had
an uneventful day, mostly in wooded flats and ridges, and from the
latter looking across with a spy-glass into Bruteland, as they called
the country held by the British, and seeing only, now and then, an
enemy picket or distant camps. About midday they sat down in a thicket
together for a bite to eat and a whispered conference.

"Binkus, as you know, had his own way of scouting," said the Major.
"He was an Indian fighter. He liked to get inside the enemy lines and
lie close an' watch 'em an' mebbe hear what they were talking about.
Now an' then he would surprise a British sentinel and disarm him an'
bring him into camp."

Jack wondered that his friend had never spoken of the capture of
prisoners.

"He was a modest man," said the young scout.

"He didn't want the British to know where Solomon Binkus was at work,
and I guess he was wise," said the Major. "I advise you against taking
the chances that he took. It isn't necessary. You would be caught
much sooner than he was."

That day Bartlett took Jack over Solomon's trail and gave him the lay
of the land and much good advice. A young man of Jack's spirit,
however, is apt to have a degree of enterprise and self-confidence not
easily controlled by advice. He had been traveling alone for three
days when he felt the need of more exciting action. That night he
crossed the Charles River on the ice in a snow-storm and captured a
sentinel and brought him back to camp.

About this time he wrote another letter to the family, in which he said:

"The boys are coming back from home and reenlisting. They have not
been paid--no one has been paid--but they are coming back. More of
them are coming than went away.

"They all tell one story. The women and the old men made a row about
their being at home in time of war. On Sunday the minister called them
shirks. Everybody looked askance at them. A