“Good. Then we will go back to the mainland, and meet them.”
So the three set out, following the path to the shore, and then they made their way in a direction that would lead them around to a point half a mile from the encampment of the redcoats. Here they stopped, and Dick went down to a little stream that flowed through the woods, and washed the remainder of the mud from off his clothes.
Then he took up his position in a sunny spot near his comrades, where his garments would dry off quickly.
They had been there perhaps an hour and a half when they saw the patriot soldiers coming. There were about a company of the soldiers, and at their head with great importance stamped on every line of his freckled Irish face, strode Tim Murphy. As they drew nearer, Dick recognized Captain Morgan and some of the soldiers, and knew that it was his own company that was advancing.
A few minutes later the soldiers reached the spot where Dick, Fritz and Mr. Miller were, and halted. After greetings had been exchanged, the situation of affairs was explained to Captain Morgan, who listened attentively, and said that they would advance cautiously and try to take the redcoats by surprise.
“That will be the best plan, Captain Morgan,” agreed Dick.
Then the party started forward, Dick, Fritz, Tim, Mr. Miller and Captain Morgan scouting in the lead, the soldiers following closely.
Forward they went, slowly, for they were eager to take the redcoats by surprise, and presently they caught sight of the temporary encampment. The British soldiers were sitting about in groups, talking and laughing, and evidently they did not in the least suspect that they were in danger.
But suddenly, as the patriots were looking, a man had seemed to rush into the encampment and say something in an excited manner, and make a gesture toward where the patriot soldiers were. Then the redcoats leaped to their feet and seized their muskets.
“That fellow has warned them!” cried Captain Morgan. “Forward, men. Charge the redcoats!”