A few minutes later he caught sight of the glimmer of a campfire in the distance, and he advanced slowly and cautiously, and when about one hundred and fifty yards from the camp, he paused and stood there, gazing at the scene with interest.
It was the British force, sure enough, and when he had sized it up closely, he decided that there was nearer one thousand men than five hundred.
“Our force could not hope to capture Fort Ninety-Six after this force gets there,” he murmured. “And this force will reach there easily by noon to-morrow.”
Having sized up the British force, Dick turned and made his way back in the direction of the patriot encampment, reaching there about half-past ten o’clock. He went direct to the tent occupied by General Greene, and found the general still up.
“I found the encampment of the British, sir,” said Dick, after exchanging greetings.
“Ah, indeed. How far from here is the encampment, Dick?”
“About ten or twelve miles.”
“How strong a force have they?” was the next question.
“There is nearer one thousand men than five hundred, sir.”
“Ah. Then the force is stronger than the messenger thought.”