“And what is that?” asked Tobias Hawkins.
“The nature of the punishment awaiting known enemies found within the lines,” said the boy, composedly.
There was a moment’s silence; then Hawkins, with a shifting in his bold eyes which was not there a little before, said:
“I don’t quite understand.”
“It is difficult,” said Ben, “to recall a face seen in the press of battle, more especially when that battle took place so long ago, as did, we will say, Bunker Hill. But, sometimes, it can be done; and frequently more than one person can recall the face. So, in your proceedings, Master Hawkins, do not be overbold, I warn you. When one knows a thing, as I know it, there are many ways of bringing about a desired end.”
And with that the boy turned about and entered the inn, leaving the two men staring after him.
CHAPTER XII
HOW STORM-STAYED GUESTS CAME TO THE INN
AT RISING SUN
After leaving the two conspirators on the bench before Clark’s Inn, Ben Cooper entered the building, sought the landlord and paid his score.
“Then you do not mean to stop here to-night,” said the host, who knew him.
“No,” answered Ben. “It will, perhaps, be the last time I shall have to pass with my father in many days, and I think I shall ride out to Germantown and spend the night there.”