"To what end? Have you an idea that two might take him by force from such a gang as made him prisoner?"
"We could at least go to prison with him, and not have it said we deserted a comrade."
"Lad," Hiram began, laying his hand impressively on my arm, "before this 'ere squabble with the king has come to an end there will be many a good lad clapped into prison, and many another sent into the next world by means of British bullets. If we of the colonies count on gaining our freedom we must not let the life or liberty of one person stand in our way, however dear to our hearts that one may be."
"Then you believe we should leave the poor lad to his fate?" I asked.
"Ay, what else can be done? I came for two lads, and if so be it is possible I will carry back at least one with me. In case that can't be accomplished, I'll do my best to save my own skin in order to make report. Where's your skiff?"
"Just yonder," and I pointed to a dark mass twenty feet or more away.
"'Tis time we were setting off, for no one can say how much more of danger we may strike before crossing the water."
Hiram was making of what seemed to me a most exciting adventure, nothing more than business, and his matter-of-fact way of looking at the situation did more toward bringing me to my senses than any line of argument he could have used.
I ran to the skiff, and when we had dragged her down the shore until she was waterborne, both of us stopped as with one accord to listen lest an enemy might have been creeping up on us.
Nothing came to our ears save the splash of oars in the distance nearby where the king's ships were at anchor, and a distant hum as of people moving about in the town a long way off.