“That,” said he, “was a queer sort of thing. I don’t quite understand it.” Pondering a moment, he added: “Evidently this man who was with General Mifflin had come on an errand concerning the strength or weakness of a certain person.”
“And that person,” said Ben Cooper, without hesitation, “is none other than General Washington.”
“Right,” said Nat; “the general it is.”
“But,” and there was a mystified quality in Ben’s voice and manner, “while that interests me, still there is something which attracts me still more.”
“And what is that?”
“I should like to know who that man is.” Ben pointed in the direction taken by Mifflin’s late companion, and Nat understood at once.
“So?” said he. “And why are you so much interested in him?”
“Somehow,” said Ben, “while he talked I seemed to recognize his voice—not so much its general quality, as a note that came into it now and then. It told of a sort of eagerness—a desire to learn something, which I seem strangely familiar with. And oddly enough, it strikes me that it was not so long ago that I heard it. It seems as though——” Here he paused, and through the semi-darkness his hand reached out and grasped Nat’s arm tightly. “I know who it was,” he said. “It was a man whom I met at the City Tavern in Philadelphia only last night—a man of the name of Tobias Hawkins!”
CHAPTER V
IN WHICH AN ARMY CREPT AWAY IN THE NIGHT
AND FOUGHT THE BATTLE OF PRINCETON
Having had no proper rest on the previous night, Ben slept well on that night of the first of January; early in the morning, however, he was up and had snatched his breakfast and was in the saddle.