"Good morning, Mr. Hughson. I trust you had a comfortable night after your adventures on the river."
"I don't know you, my lad," returned the man, with a broad accent, "and my name is not Hughson. I'm in a bit of a hurry, and—"
"Your name may not be Hughson, fast enough, but you are a British spy and we want you. You do know me, but I will refresh your memory a bit. I am Lieutenant Bob Estabrook of the Liberty Boys, and you were captured by us a night or two ago in the city."
"Never saw you in my life, and I am not a spy, but as good a rebel as yourself," and the man hurried to the barn at the rear of the house.
"You are not a patriot," said Bob, following. "We do not call ourselves rebels."
Then Bob imitated the crowing of a cock, and in a moment Dick came out and hurried forward. Hughson turned at the sound, saw Dick almost upon him, and whipped out a pistol. In an instant, however, Bob was upon him with a pistol at his head and his other hand on the spy's wrist.
Then Hughson suddenly found himself covered by a pistol in Dick's hand, the young captain saying:
"Take his weapon, Bob, and see if he has any others. Mr. Hughson, you are wanted in the city. Do you prefer going there dead or would you rather go alive?"
The man blanched, for he knew that he was in desperate straits and that his chances of escape were slight. He made a sudden dash, wrenching his hand free and attempted to fire at Dick, but Bob, by a quick thrusting out of his left foot, sent him upon his face on the grass. A man and a boy came running from the barn, and two housemaids appeared at the rear door shortly, followed by the landlord. Dick and Bob sprang forward and seized the man as he arose, holding him firmly.
"What is the trouble, Captain?" asked, the landlord, recognizing Dick, whom he had met before.