“That’s what I thought.” The small eyes snapped viciously beneath the heavy brows. “Then you know that you’ve never deceived us. We knew that you were playing fast and loose from the first.”
“Your messenger from Boston was suspected of being a traitor, was he?”
“Suspected?” Slade laughed at this.
“What was his name?” asked George, quietly.
Slade hesitated; then a curious look came into his face.
“We never heard,” said he finally.
It was George who laughed this time.
“Mr. Dana is a curious old fellow,” said he. “I wonder if he always jumps so at conclusions.”
“Do you mean to say——” Slade stopped.
“That I am not the messenger? Exactly. Your man must have missed the ‘Nancy Breen.’ I bore dispatches, but they were to General Putnam.”