The men who had come to our rescue believed it proper the prisoner should be taken to that lean-to known as "headquarters," and soon the miserable wretch was telling his story to our commander.
"Why did you show yourself such a simpleton as to venture into the midst of those whom you had harassed?" the old general asked with a laugh, for I believe he was secretly pleased at seeing the tax-collector in such a plight.
"I came across the river to speak with some friends of mine who were come——" Sandy began, and one of our party interrupted him by saying:
"I didn't suppose you had a friend outside of Hillsborough, and but precious few in the town!"
"This was a family from Chatham whom I have known many years——"
"I venture to say you never tried to collect illegal taxes from them!"
"Let the man tell the story," General Hamilton interrupted, and Sandy continued:
"They were so near the town that I didn't think any one would dare lay hands on me; but before I was comfortably seated under their wagon half a dozen men seized me. I was dragged up the stream to that point where the bank is high and steep, and there the life was nearly kicked out of me."
Sandy concluded the story by explaining how we had chanced to go to his rescue, and what happened after we arrived at the scene.
"You two lads have done well!" the old general said emphatically. "It would have been a sorry day's work for the people in this section if yonder rascal had been killed. The one question now in my mind is, what we shall do with him. I don't want such scurvy knaves in camp."