“The seal, sir, was broken by a redcoat officer a little way out from Newport; but he didn’t understand the letter,” Dicky added significantly.
“It is easily understood,” said Mr. Barton, looking up after he got to the end.
Boylike, Dicky was charmed at being able to show the extent of his knowledge and responsibilities. Coming up close to Mr. Barton, he pointed out the third line from the bottom. Mr. Barton’s eyes followed Dicky’s finger as it traveled upward over the page, and he grasped the meaning immediately.
“Boy,” said he after a pause, “there are some things I want to ask you. Come in the house with me and do exactly what I tell you.”
Dicky followed him in a small, dark room on the first floor, fitted up as a library. Mr. Barton directed him to take a chair and then disappeared behind him for a few moments. When he came back he said:—
“Now answer freely and to the best of your ability all the questions I shall ask you, but remember not to turn your head to look on either side or behind you.”
Dicky thought this strange, but he obeyed implicitly. Mr. Barton, then taking out a quill pen and paper, began to ask him a series of questions respecting the Overing House—its distance from the shore, the lay of the land, and many other things of information. Dicky, not being one of those boys who can spend a lifetime in a place without knowing anything about it, was able to give a pretty accurate description of things in and around Newport. Especially did he know where the British ships were moored, the hours for the boats, and many other particulars about them.
While looking in front of him, as Mr. Barton carefully wrote down what he said, Dicky observed a round mirror, and what he saw in it almost made him drop off his chair in surprise. For there was a door behind him slightly ajar, and every now and then he caught a glimpse of a young man wearing a Continental uniform and listening intently to what was said.
Dicky felt an intense curiosity to know who it was, and, while describing as well as he could a tortuous path that he knew leading from the shore to a clump of woods behind the Overing House, he happened to glance up at the mirror. The soldier behind him had become so interested that he had poked his head completely outside the door.
One glance in the mirror showed Dicky that the young man was the son of Mr. Barton, and he surmised shrewdly that it was the young Captain Barton of the Continental Army who was his unseen listener. He was plainly in hiding, and Dicky understood very well why the elder Barton imposed cautions upon him.