In the cool, darkened room of the improvised Patriot Hospital in Charleston, a young man in the uniform of a Continental, read aloud to his much-bandaged friend. The subject of their attention was a long-delayed letter from the invalid's sister, in which she dwelt lightly on the hardships at home, and came forth strongly in praise of her brother's hardy deeds.

"If it wasn't for Dick," said the wounded boy, faintly, but with a smile, "you would imagine I was the Patriot army all by myself."

"It's because you were such a good part of it that you're on your back now," returned Tom Dare with enthusiasm.

In an important engagement near Charleston, Ben Foster had been severely wounded, and for two weeks the Dare Boys, Dick and Tom, feared for their friend's life. That morning, however, the surgeons had relieved their anxiety by promising Ben's recovery, provided he received careful nursing. This good news greatly cheered the two brothers' hearts, for after having passed through so many thrilling occasions in safety, they dreaded the thought of returning to their homes near Philadelphia without their boon companion.

Although the city at this date was in control of the Patriot Army, the British were everywhere about and actively watchful. To go to or communicate with any point beyond the lines was a task fraught with difficulty, and letters were rare events indeed.

Dick Dare, whose latest triumphs under the "Swamp Fox" the reader well remembers, returned at this moment from the commander's quarters and noticed the letter in his comrade's hand.

"News from home?" he inquired, eagerly. "Oh! from your sister, Ben?"

"No," rejoined Tom, bent on arousing his curiosity, for Dick's regard for Ben's sister was well known. "No," he jokingly said, "it's a letter from Fritz Schmockenburg, inviting us to attend an affair at his country estate."

"I'll attend to Fritz's affair later on," Dick began. Then his face grew serious and he added, "When Ben Has gone to sleep, Tom, and you are not wanted here, I want you to run over to the barracks for a few minutes."

"Anything wrong?" inquired Ben.

"Only that I'm off for a little trip, Ben, and I want to give a few final instructions to this good-for-nothing nurse of yours," Dick returned, quietly pushing his brother from the stool on which he was sitting.

"Is that all the general wanted you for?" asked the aggrieved Tom, from his location on the floor. "I was in hopes that he would send you away for a month or two."

"Well, it's very likely to amount to that before I get through." Dick bent close to the bed. "I'm bound for Vincennes, boys, but we are to keep that secret to ourselves."

"Vincennes!" they chorused.

"Why that's way over near the Mississippi river, isn't it?" asked Ben.

"Thereabouts," replied Dick. "I'm sorry I have to go before you are up and around, Ben, but the general has honored me with this commission and I must start at once."

"How about me, cannot I go too?" queried Tom.

"You are to stay here and be good to Ben for a few days and then you are to follow me," answered Dick, dropping his voice to a whisper. "This message that I'm going to carry has got to get through and to insure its delivery a similar message is to be sent and you are to carry it. If one fails the other should succeed. You can follow me as soon as possible, and we may be able to make the last stages of the trip together."

"Sorry I'm out of this," said Ben, "but you can't stop bullets and carry messages at the same time very successfully."

Dick bade him a quiet, but none the less sincere farewell, and hurried over to his quarters to get ready for his trip.

His preparations consisted mainly in a careful examination of the arms he was to carry and his coffee-pot.

He then called to Fritz—the blundering but well-meaning Fritz—with whom the boys had had so many larks, and by a few words startled that individual into incoherent phrases and hurried action. Tom joined him soon afterward and offered his assistance in making ready.

"Hate to hurry you away like this, old man," said Tom, mockingly.

"I am not going to hurry after I start, anyhow," Dick replied. "I'm going to take along an anchor in the form of that ever-slow German, Fritz."

"Fritz," shouted Tom. "Why under the sun is he going with you?"

"To conceal my haste," Dick answered. "If I start out with that symbol of Mercury riding along side of me, no one will suspect that I'm going through an enemy's country, and through unbeaten forests into the heart of the west on an important trip. They will surely think I've gone to that 'affair' on Fritz's estate you were speaking of a short time ago."

"Maybe you're right, Dick," Tom said musingly, "but I suspect that with Fritz along, you will have to travel pretty slowly."

"Nonsense," asserted his brother. "Fritz will go as fast as his horse carries him and won't handicap me in any way."

The boys were soon joined by Fritz with his equipment in his hands. He was bursting with curiosity as to what was in store for him. Dick had merely told him to get ready for a long journey and with the German, Dick's words were law, for he had frequently been saved from dangerous positions by Dick Dare's aid, and held him in the highest esteem.

The three young adventurers gathered about a table at one end of the Dare boys' room and settled themselves to the careful study of a much worn map of the country through which they would have to travel.

"Fritz and I," began Dick, "start tomorrow at daybreak, so as to avoid any more notice than possible, and we are to ride hard after we are outside the British lines, till it gets hot. Then we'll just jog along, either stopping at a farm for our meals or cooking them ourselves, making whatever distance the country permits, and spending the nights, when possible, with Patriot farmers or in the open. One week from today you, Tom, will start for the same point. You are to take Tim Murphy with you. Tim is quick-witted and you ought to be able to follow us rapidly enough to arrive at Fort Pitt about the time we do, for Fritz and I have to blaze the way."

"That sounds like a pleasure excursion, with the British, Tories, and Indians thrown in to add to the interest and keep us from falling asleep."

"Yes, that's the way it sounds," responded Dick, "but remember, young man, that we have to deliver that message exactly one month from today!"

"Never," cried Tom. "Why, Dick, that's impossible. A thousand miles with all those difficulties in front of you! I don't think that even you can do it, Dick."

"It has to be done," said Dick, quietly, "and you've got to try it too, Tom."

"Well, if you can, I can, Dick," answered Tom, spiritedly.

"So it will be a race," cried Dick.

"And may we both win," rejoined his brother, holding out his hand.

"Ver do I come in?" inquired Fritz, for the first time sufficiently collected to speak. "Now dot I am made ready, for once, vy iss it I am going to,—from,—for,—

"You're not," said Tom, severely.

"No," added Dick.

"No!" chimed Fritz.

Then Dick, to help his confused comrade out of his difficulties, explained their proposed journey as clearly as possible to the delight of the soldier, who welcomed an opportunity to distinguish himself in so important a mission, and who was, moreover, greatly pleased at the prospect of a trip with Dick Dare.

While the three young fellows were engrossed in the discussion of their plans, there came to their ears the sound of horses in motion. They were passing under their window and drew the boys' attention outside.

"Our mounts," shouted Dick.

"Our mounds ver?" asked Fritz in a puzzled tone.

"You wait here Fritz and I'll bring them up," said Dick, laughing as he and Tom hurried from the room.

They met the cavalry troopers leading two horses. At the entrance to the barn they made a careful examination of the animals by lamplight.

"A fine pair of horses," said Dick.

"Seem pretty wiry," ventured Tom, and then looking about he added: "Wonder what happened to Fritz?"

"We'll see about that," replied Dick, giving his new possession a final and parting pat. They retraced their steps and reaching the front of the house collided with Fritz. He had just ventured forth in an effort to find out what the others were doing.

"Your horse doesn't care to go up to see you tonight, Fritz," said Dick in an apologetic tone.

"Horse?" echoed Fritz.

"Certainly," replied Tom, having difficulty in restraining his mirth.

"I do't you said it 'mound' vas," protested Fritz.

"That's a 'grave' mistake on your part," answered Tom, as pursued by the laughing Dick and the perplexed Fritz, he fled into the barracks.

"Time to turn in, I guess, as long as Fritz and I have to be up so early in the morning," Dick yawned.

So the three youths upon whom during the next few weeks so much was to depend, rolled themselves up in their blankets and with a muffled "Good night," closed their eyes for the last time together for many a night.