| I | How Fort Johnson Fell | [ 7] |
| II | How Tom Deering Made a Name | [ 31] |
| III | How the British Ships Ran From Charleston Harbor | [ 57] |
| IV | How Two Men Buried a Chest of Gold | [ 84] |
| V | How Tom Joined Marion’s Brigade | [ 101] |
| VI | How Francis Marion Heard Good News From Williamsburg | [ 123] |
| VII | How Tom Deering Fought With Gates at Camden | [ 140] |
| VIII | How Tom Braved the Tories | [ 148] |
| IX | How Tom Deering Held the Staircase | [ 174] |
| X | How Marion’s Men Lay in Ambush and What Came of It | [ 200] |
| XI | How Tom Met With a Blindfold Adventure | [ 213] |
| XII | How Tom Took Part in a Mysterious Consultation | [ 245] |
| XIII | How the Unexpected Happened on Christmas Eve | [ 261] |
| XIV | How the British Lost Some Prisoners | [ 283] |
| XV | How Tom Deering Fought His First Fight Upon the Sea | [ 306] |
| XVI | How Tom Deering Served With General Greene | [ 322] |
| XVII | How a Traitor to His Country was Taken and Lost | [ 337] |
| XVIII | How Tom Deering Rode With Washington at Yorktown | [ 350] |
Illustrations
| PAGE | |
| Two Figures Bounded Upon the Walls | [ Frontispiece] |
| Marion Took the Packet | [ 62] |
| “They Are Rare Good Lads, All of Them,” Spoke the Burgess | [ 134] |
| Step by Step He was Beaten Back | [ 194] |
| “This Gentleman,” Said Cornwallis, “Will Introduce You” | [ 252] |
| “Well Aimed,” Praised Mr. Johnson | [ 316] |
| The Officer Sprang Forward | [ 344] |
Fighting King George
CHAPTER I
HOW FORT JOHNSON FELL
“The wind’s changing again, Cole,” said Tom Deering, as he threw his rudder handle to leeward in order that the sheet might catch the full benefit of the breeze.
The person to whom he spoke was a negro, young in years but of colossal size; as he sat amidships in the skiff, with the sheet rope in his hand, his sleeveless shirt showing his mighty arms bare to the shoulder, he resembled a statue of Hercules, cut out of black marble. Tom Deering was about sixteen, and the son of a rich planter, just below Charleston; he was a tall, strongly built boy for his years, but beside the giant negro slave he looked like an infant. Cole had been born upon Tom’s father’s plantation and was about five years the elder; the two were inseparable; where Tom went the huge black followed him like a shadow.
When he had the sail drawing nicely, Tom continued:
“I wonder, Cole, how all this is going to end?”
Cole shook his woolly head and grinned; then suddenly his face changed and he held up one hand as though bidding his young master to listen.