(Patent not applied for)
They cut up through the woods where Gordon had picked his way to the Albany camp, for he wanted to show Harry the chasm and the path he had taken.
“Now, Kid,” said Harry, “you will be kind enough to keep your beautiful brown eyes straight ahead, or by the great eternal sphinx I’ll put a pair of blinders on you. No more pink arrows! Just look ahead and listen to me. We’ve got three things to do, and one of them is right in your line. First, we’ve got to strike Crown Point and find the elderly lady who lost this bag.”
“How do you know she’s elderly, Harry?”
“On account of the smelling salts. Then we’ve got to find the troop, and if all goes well I’m going to give Mr. E. C. Wade the surprise of his life. How would you like to be Ethan Allen?”
“What!” said Gordon, the idea suddenly dawning on him.
“Well, now,” Harry continued, “Ethan Allen was like you; he was the kind of a fellow who could find a way.”
“That’s like you, Harry.”
“Well, but he liked to talk and make fine speeches, too, so I think it’s up to you. Anyway, I’m going to put the idea up to Red Deer, if we can root him out, and see if we can’t plan an assault. We’ll reconnoiter the locality, send a couple of scouts in, then go over into Vermont, transport our men in dories right under Mr. Wade’s nose, gag his sentries (he’ll have some out, you can wager), and enter the fort, call upstairs and give him Allen’s speech about Jehovah and the Continental Congress. Exactly how we’ll take the fort is a thing I’ll have to think out and talk over with Red Deer. But so far, how does it strike you?”
Gordon was radiant. “It’s great, Harry! It’s simply fine! And I read in a book—the school history—that after it was all over Ethan Allen and Seth Warner made a trip to Philadelphia and received the thanks of Congress; and we’ll do that too, Harry, we—”