“Here, Newton, here’s your man. Put him under guard with that Tory, Toombs,” said Allen.
A tall man of noble, commanding presence, but of a quiet, modest mien, stooped to caress the hound. “Why,” he said, “it’s one of Sunderland’s dogs, that haven’t their equal in New England.”
“You’ve got an eye for houn’ dogs, Capt’n Warner. He sartain is one o’ them dogs an’ll foller anything he’s told to, though ’t ain’t no gre’t trick to track a Canuck more’n an Injin. They’re both strong-scented critters.”
[CHAPTER XV—LEADERS AND GUIDE]
Even while Nathan watched Gabe and his master depart into the forest southward, he became aware the assemblage was moved by some new object of interest. Turning, he saw Colonel Allen and another gentleman, eagle-eyed, eagle-beaked, in handsome military dress, talking angrily in the midst of an excited group. At length Allen turned his passionate face toward the men and called in a loud voice:
“Men, fall in for a moment. Here,” waving his hand toward his companion, as the men rapidly fell into line, “is Mr. Benedict Arnold. He bears a colonel’s commission from the Connecticut Committee of Safety, and claims the right to command you to-night. Men of the Green Mountains, whom do you follow—Arnold or Allen?”
“Allen, Allen,” came in response, loud and decided.
The chosen chief turned a triumphant smile upon his rival, who strode away in silence of restrained passion. Soon returning, however, he addressed Allen in a clear, steady voice:
“Sir, I submit to the will of these men, but let me be a volunteer in this glorious enterprise. The Green Mountain Boys and their famous leader are too generous to refuse this.”
Allen, touched at a vulnerable point, grasped the speaker’s hand heartily and answered: