“We found this youngster over yonder in that bit of woods, General Percy,” said one of the soldiers. “He was sitting there, eating a lunch, and when we appeared and asked him who he was and where he came from, he seemed frightened and could make no satisfactory answer.”
“I wasn't frightened, any such thing!” said Tom, his eyes flashing. “I am not frightened even now, sir. I was surprised, for they came upon me so suddenly, and the leaped at me as if I were a desperado, and naturally I may have seemed a bit confused in my answers to their questions. But I wasn't frightened, sir.”
Something like a grim smile appeared for an instant on the general's face, as he looked at the bright face of the boy.
“So you were not afraid, eh?” he remarked. “Well, if you are not a rebel spy or an enemy to the king, there is no reason that you should be afraid. What is your name?”
“Tom Dare, sir.” Tom had given his real name to the soldiers, but had wished afterward that he had given a fictitious one. Now he could do nothing other than give his own name.
“Tom Dare, eh? Well, Master Tom Dare, where do you live?”
The boy hesitated an instant, and then said: “I live over in New Jersey.”
“Ah, in New Jersey? Well, what are you doing over here on Long Island?”
“I wanted to see the British army, sir, and so I came over here.”
“Ah, indeed? Why did you wish to see the British army?”