Fighting King George

by John T. McIntyre

The hiding-place must be a secret known only to themselves; the slaves upon the plantation could be trusted to the last one; but if the dragoons of Tarleton suspected the presence of treasure upon the place, they would terrorize the negroes by threats of torture and compel them to tell where it was hidden.

Some distance from the house, in the middle of an orchard, was an old well, the waters of which were used in dry weather to keep the young trees in good condition. As a small boy Tom had often lowered himself into its dark depths in a spirit of exploration; and now, as he cast his mind about for a safe place to conceal the gold, the well occurred to him.

“I have it, Cole,” exclaimed he, cheerfully. “The old well in the orchard is the place; about half-way down, a large stone fell out a long time ago, and behind the bed where the stone lay we can dig out a hole large enough to contain all the money.”

Cole nodded delightedly; in his opinion it was just the thing. So out they went, at a side door at the upper end of the house to prepare the hiding-place. Cole carried a long rope, for Tom decided not to trust his weight to the well rope, which was old and very likely rotten; they also had a masked lantern, a short iron bar and a small spade.

“We must be careful and not be seen,” said Tom, as they picked their way through the garden. “The Tories are drawing in close, at the expectation of a British victory; and if one of them saw us prowling about in the darkness he would suspect something at once.”

They reached the well in a very few minutes, and he at once set to work to descend. Cole formed a sling at one end of the rope and passed it about Tom’s body. The boy had the masked lantern fastened to his belt; the spade and bar were lying upon the low curb of the well; he was just about to swing himself down into the black hole when suddenly there came a low, sullen shock as of distant thunder, followed by another and another. The eyes of the boy and the giant went instantly in the direction of the harbor; a flare of light ran along the sky, and immediately vanished.

“The British!” said Tom. “That was their big guns that spoke; and they are firing rockets, too. They mean to attack the fort in the darkness. We are none too soon, Cole; for there is no knowing what will happen now.”

Cole’s strong arms lowered him slowly into the well, and he soon found the place he sought. A large and almost square stone had fallen out and behind where it had lain in the lining of the shaft the earth could be seen. Tom carefully pried out some few other and smaller stones with the bar; these he passed up to Cole, after which he set to work with the spade to dig an aperture sufficiently large to hold the sacks of gold.

As he worked he could hear the steady growl of the distant guns; above his head he could see but a small, round spot in the sky through the shaft of the well; and every little while this small, round spot would be lit up by a sudden glare of rockets sent hissing into the heavens as signals to the captains of the attacking fleet.

In about half an hour Tom’s task was completed. Cole was signaled and hauled him out of the well.