ed by the death of Simon Halpen.

"Who was it?"

"The spy."

"Ah! I thought so. Well, we can't help the poor wretch now. Can you aid
yourself at all? Brace up, man!"

"I'm--I'm all right," the youth declared, finally shaking off the
feeling which had numbed him. "Let me get a grip on your boat--there!
Now you can paddle ashore. I'll not lose my hold this time."

"Right it is, then." The rescuer paddled slowly toward the bateaus. When
he came to the shore with the boy dragging behind him, Bolderwood and
several other members of the company had arrived in answer to the
expiring scream of the drowned Yorker. Upon hearing the explanation of
the affair the chief scout's face became grave indeed. "The poor wretch
has gone to his just desarts, I don't doubt," he said. "But so
sudden--so sudden! It seems a turrible thing, friends, for a man to live
the life he lived and then to go before his Maker without no
preparation. He murdered poor Jonas Harding as sure as aigs is aigs, an'
he tried twice ter kill the boy here, an' burned the widder's home. Yet
I'd wished him time to make his peace with God. It's an awful affair....
But come!" he added, recovering himself, "there's something else to do
now. We've got word from Colonel Allen. The troops are almost here. An'
as good as we've done, there ain't ha'f enough boats to transport our
boys across the lake."

"There may be more comin' from the north, 'Siah," suggested Brown. "Y'
know ye sent some of the boys up that way this arternoon."

"Small hope o' their gettin' anything----"

The chief scout's words were interrupted by a shout from one of the
others. Around the point which defended the little cove a boat was
appearing--or, rather, a lantern which betrayed the approach of a boat.
"Here's another!" was the cry. "Here's Major Skeene's big bateau--an'
Major Skeene's nigger, too!" as the loud and angry voice of a black man
was heard across the calm water.

"The boys are having a hard time with our black-and-tan friend," said
Bolderwood with a chuckle. Then he held up his hand for silence. "Hark!
there's the ring of a horse's hoof--and the tramp of feet. The troops
are coming."

With a rattle of accoutrements a cavalcade of horsemen descended the
bluff to the tiny cove. Enoch recognized Colonel Allen, Major Warner,
the stranger, Arnold, and Colonel Easton, the commander of the
Massachusetts and Connecticut forces. "Praise the Lord, 'Siah!" cried
the hearty voice of the G