At this I gave him some notion of what was in my mind. Champe had told me that the greater part of Major Simcoe’s command, the mounted Rangers, was still in the barracks, Sir Henry being reluctant to part with his best cavalry force until the last moment. Twice within the last two days the Rangers had been ordered out on the Tarrytown road to meet and repel incursions from our camps on the Hudson. Possibly a false alarm might be raised that would send them out again; and when I got this far, Sprigg interrupted me.
“You’re a man of ideas. Captain Page, I’ll say that for ye, and a dum’ sight loyaler to your little girl than ye be to the coat you’re wearin’. I’ve got a man in my crew who lives up Tarrytown way; a good sharp fellow without any wool in his brains. He’s just back from home this morning, and I shouldn’t be at all s’prised if he c’d tell some sort of a yarn about Baylor’s Horse ’r Major Lee’s Legion a-swoopin’ down this way. If we only had a dollar ’r so to kind o’ stimulate his mem’ry—”
I gave the captain two guineas.
“Will that be enough?”
“More’n enough; you make me recollect that old sayin’ about a fool and his money, Captain Page.”
“Never mind: this is no time for half-measures. Get your man into action swiftly, and let him do what he has to without reference to me. A word to some under officer at the fort will be sufficient; it will reach Sir Henry Clinton as fast as an orderly can run with it.”
“All right; so far, so good. What next?”
I thought for a moment, and then asked how many men he mustered in his crew, and if they were dependable.
“We’re full-handed; ten—countin’ the mate and the cook—and I’ve tried ’em, every one.”
“Good. They’ll fight, if they have to?”