This party stole through the side ways to the house.
A guard was there.
“Halt and give the countersign!” said the sentinel.
“We need no countersign,” said the leader. “Are there any deserters here?”
The sentinel was thrown off his guard.
Suddenly he found his gun wrenched from him, and he himself, poor man, in the hands of the giant Dennis. He was greatly astonished.
Colonel Barton entered the house, and found Mr. Overton, a Quaker, reading in one of the lower rooms.
“Is General Prescott here?” asked Colonel Barton.
The Quaker’s eyes rounded.
“He has retired.”