“That is a small matter,” was the calm reply; “but we cannot just now afford to lose the advantage which comes by having a friend amid the enemy.”
“I rather think not,” Master Whipple said emphatically, “and if you are willing to stay there, we should use every precaution to keep your secret. I will see the colonel as you desire.”
The next morning Ira was on the street with Captain Park, when his attention was called to a lad not far from his own age, who was loitering around the building in which the arms and ammunition of the Continentals were stored. There was something in his appearance that seemed familiar, and after looking at the fellow a few seconds, it suddenly flashed upon the young scout that he was Fred Lyman. It was the resemblance to his father that had made the lad’s face seem familiar. To make sure that his surmise was correct, he asked the officer by his side, the name of the youth.
“Fred Lyman,” was the prompt answer. “His father and Master Earle are confined in one of the rooms of the store-house, and doubtless he is hanging around there hoping to get into communication with them.”
“I am not sure but it would be wise to put him into the room with them,” said the young scout as he eyed the fellow again.
“He has never shown any qualities that has made us consider him dangerous,” was the laughing reply of the officer, and they passed on.
That night, to the surprise of every one, Colonel Stark arrived in town. His early arrival was explained by his own words:
“Five minutes after your message was brought to me, I was on my way here. Call your committee together. The sooner we come to an understanding about matters the better.”
The result of that secret session was to give the experienced officer absolute control of the defense of the town. The next day he looked over the village and its immediate surroundings, and then sent for Ira.
“How are you, Ira Le Geyt?” was his greeting, with special emphasis on the name. “How is—well, my friend General Schuyler?”