CHAPTER II
IN WHICH MR. HAWKINS UTTERS A THREAT
The Porcupine was still turning over the odd remarks of his companion, when they pulled up at that famous hostelry of Revolutionary days, “The City Tavern.” In the inn yard, Ben, looking down from his saddle, inquired of a hostler who had come to take their mounts:
“Can you tell me where Mr. Robert Morris lives?”
“Do you mean the merchant, Morris?” asked the man.
“Yes.”
“You will find his house on Chestnut Street, near to Seventh,” directed the man.
They dismounted, and saw to it that their horses would be cleaned, fed and bedded; after this they went into the tavern and bespoke lodgings for themselves.
“And will you have supper also, gentlemen?” smiled the landlord. “Piping hot it will be, the very sort for a damp, chilly evening like this. Taken in a snug, warm room, I can conceive of nothing more inviting.”
Ben laughed. He and the landlord were old acquaintances, and the lad knew his ways.
“Why,” spoke Ben, “if your supper and your rooms were only half as enticing as your manner of speaking of them, they would be the most desired things in all Philadelphia. However, we will put both of them to the test in a very little while. I have a message to deliver, and then we shall try whether or no you can prove what you say.”