shore. It was agreed that, where the settlers who
owned boats were known to be staunch Whigs, it would be safe to tell
them for what purpose their crafts were needed. But several boats were
owned by Tories and royalist sympathizers and these people must be
deceived for, although the scouts were doubtless well armed and
determined enough to take the boats without saying "by your leave," such
a proceeding might be disastrous to the expedition.

'Siah Bolderwood chose Enoch as his companion and went himself toward
the home of a farmer who stoutly upheld the King and his ministers and
who had, in fact, held the title of his land from New York through all
the years of trouble between his neighbors and the Albany courts. His
homestead, however, was in such an out-of-the-way place and so secluded
that the Green Mountain Boys had left him unmolested. Now Bolderwood was
determined to have the roomy canoe and a large bateau which he was known
to possess.

"But if the pesky critter gits an inkling of what we're up to, he'll
start for Old Ti--that he will!" the ranger said to Enoch. "We gotter
get around him somehow. An' you leave it ter me. Ye better keep aout o'
sight, I reckon, anyway; numbers might make the ol' codger suspicious."

So Enoch hid in the wood surrounding the clearing on the lake shore
while his tall friend went toward the Tory's door. The old man, who
depended upon his nephew and a slave or two to do his work, was sitting
looking out across the lake. He was too far away to distinguish the
battlements of Ticonderoga, but he happened to be looking in that
direction when Bolderwood presented himself. "Neighbor!" said the
latter, in a most friendly tone, "ye look hearty. What's the news?"

"Humph!" grunted the old man, staring at the Yankee shrewdly, "you're
the feller that's been clearin' land above us yander, ain't ye?"

"That I can't deny, sir," responded the ranger. "An' jest for the sake
o' bein' neighborly, I'm down here ter arsk a favor."

"What is it?" grunted the old man, doubtfully.

"Why, my partner an' me have got a job to do, an' we're wantin' ter
borry one or both o' your boats," and he pointed down to the water
where, at the end of a little dock, the big flatboat and a long canoe
were both moored. The old man could not see the boats without rising,
but this he did as though to make sure that they were in their places.
"What ye want 'em for?" he asked. "An' howsumever, I can't lend ye more
than o