Meanwhile, Washington was strengthening his defenses round the town. On the evening of the ninth he sent a strong detachment to plant a battery on Nook’s Hill to threaten the fleet; but the British learned of his purpose, and almost all night Don and his aunt lay awake and listened to the roar of cannon.
The next day Howe issued a printed proclamation that almost caused Aunt Martha to lose heart. Don and Jud brought her word of it.
“All linen and woolen goods have to be turned over to Crean Brush, the Tory,” whispered Don—for Snell was up-stairs. “Old Howe knows there’s stuff hidden in the town that our men can use. That’s why he wants it.”
Aunt Martha glanced involuntarily at the door to the cellar. “We’d best give it up, Donald,” she said. “I’d hoped we could keep it, but I see now that we can’t. Oh, what a foolish woman I was!”
“No, Aunt Martha—no!” Don’s voice trembled in spite of himself. “Nobody knows we have the stuff, and the Redcoats can’t possibly search every cellar.”
“Don is right, Aunt Martha,” whispered Jud. “Don’t you turn it over to them!”
“But if they come and search——” Aunt Martha checked herself suddenly, for Snell was coming down the stairs.
Without looking to right or left, the Redcoat crossed the room and went out on the street.
“Did he hear us?” asked Don’s aunt.
“Not likely,” replied Jud. “Now don’t you say one word about that stuff in the cellar.”