Enoch knew he was not warranted in standing there pouring forth his complaints when he had been ordered to report at headquarters, and after such a toilet as it was possible to make, he went to the general's camp.
It seemed to his comrades that he had but just left them when he returned looking unusually glum.
"What's the matter?" Jacob asked. "Ain't you going?"
"That's just the trouble; I am going, and with no time to spare. It's simply a case of carrying this letter, a job that could be done as well by any girl who can ride."
"Don't make so certain of that, my son," the veteran said with an admonitory shake of the head. "There's plenty of danger in scurryin' 'round the country now, when the redcoats are scouting in every direction, and if you are overhauled there's none to help you out. Every man's duty is important in times like these, even though he may never so much as smell burning powder."
Enoch was silenced by this remark, and, after a hurried good-by to his comrades, set off in search of his horse.
General Dickinson ordered him to ride to Valley Forge, and knowing the general direction after crossing the river, he hastened on without remembering Greene had told him the army had moved.
The result of this carelessness was that he found the winter camp deserted, and was forced to ride further in search of information.
After some difficulty he learned that General Washington's force had been put in motion immediately after Generals Maxwell and Dickinson left with orders to harass the enemy, and had intended to cross at Coryell's Ferry.
It was not until the morning of the 23d that he entered the American camp at Hopewell, and delivered the written message to the commander.