“Are you speaking the truth?”
“Upon my honor.”
“Your honor!” Tom laughed with scorn. “But go, I give you a minute to get out of my sight.”
Mark dashed for the bush and disappeared like magic; Tom turned Sultan’s head and rode back to his comrades.
“I thought you were about to take a prisoner,” said General Greene. “We cannot bother with them now.”
“It was a Tory cousin of mine, general,” said the scout. “He gave me some valuable information about the whereabouts of my father, and, knowing that you wanted no prisoners anyway, I let him go.”
“Quite right. I am glad to hear that you’ve had news of your father. I have heard how he was taken prisoner; he was a brave man. Perhaps we can secure his exchange.”
“If we only could,” cried Tom, eagerly. “I would give anything to see him at liberty once more.”
And from that time on there was not an hour that he was not planning a way by which his father was to breathe free air again.
“If I could only get to New York,” he repeated constantly. “If I only could get to New York. I might be able to do something, then. But here I am helpless.”