When Enoch had repaid the debt of gratitude by aiding Lord Gordon to rejoin his troops, and had landed once more on the Philadelphia side of the river, he felt particularly well pleased with the morning's work.

It was, to his mind, a fitting conclusion to the evacuation, and gave him a sense of great satisfaction that he had been enabled to be of service to the generous officer.

"I allow Seth will be pleased twice when he hears of this day's happenings, and I'm not certain but that what we have done for Lord Gordon will afford him nearly as much pleasure as to know that the British have finally left town. I wish he had given me something of less value than this chain," he added as he examined the ornament more closely. "It seems as if this was in some sense payment for the work, although he insisted it was simply to remember him by. However, I could not have refused it."

Then he returned to Drinker's Alley; informed Mrs. Graydon her late guest was in a place of safety, and, that having been done, went directly home to acquaint his mother with the events of the evacuation.

As a matter of course he was on the street when General Arnold, still suffering from the wound received at Saratoga, entered the city with a force of men sufficient to hold it against any ordinary attack, and as soon as the town was formally invested by its rightful rulers he went back to Letitia Street, there to remain until word should be received regarding his future movements.

Enoch's one desire now was to join the army at the earliest possible moment, and he hoped most fervently that he would be allowed to enlist, for there seemed every reason to believe General Washington would attack the British forces during their march across New Jersey.

Late on this same afternoon it was told in the city that Clinton was encamped with his army and camp-followers at Haddonfield, and so lengthy was the train with its appendages that the first division of the force had bivouacked before the last left Gloucester Point, although the line had moved in close order.

It was reported that when the soldiers, the bathorses, baggage and ammunition wagons, the camp-followers and refugees were stretched out on a single road in marching order, they extended a length of twelve miles, and there seemed to be no question but that the American forces would sadly harass the cumbersome column before it could arrive at its destination.

There was great rejoicing in Philadelphia on this first night of the re-occupation by the Continental army.

Those who had been imprisoned because of their devotion to the cause were set free, and for the first time since September was there feasting and joy in the homes of the citizens who ardently desired the independence of the colonies.

It was noon of the 19th when Enoch received the expected summons, and then, to his surprise and delight, Greene entered the house.

"I came with an order from General Arnold," he said in reply to Enoch's eager question, "and you are to carry a message from him to General Dickinson, while I return to the main army."

"Has Washington moved from Valley Forge?"

"Certainly. He started for Coryell's Ferry[F] last night. Day before yesterday Generals Maxwell and Dickinson left camp in order to be ready to harass the enemy during his march, and are now somewhere near the river; but it is impossible to say just at what point they may be found. You are to report to General Arnold at once, and will be furnished by him with a horse and equipment in order to enable you to reach the New Jersey troops. Clinton, so it is reported, left Haddonfield this morning, moving in the direction of Mount Holly, and the general impression is that he intends to pass through New Brunswick. Keep that fact well in mind, for it is somewhere on the west side of his line that you will find General Dickinson, and you must not approach sufficiently near to run the risk of being captured."

"What am I to do after the message has been delivered?" Enoch asked.

"That I cannot say."

"Am I to be allowed to enlist?"

"The order which General Washington gave at Valley Forge is still in force, and you will most likely be considered an aid so long as your services are required—very likely until the army is united. Now I propose to ask your mother for a dinner, although there is no lack of rations in the Continental camp; but it is the last opportunity I shall have for some time of enjoying her extraordinarily good cooking. You must tuck a generous meal under your vest this day, because you won't get another like it for many days to come."

As a matter of course Enoch told his friend of the previous morning's adventures, when he had aided Lord Gordon, and after the story was finished Greene said emphatically:

"It was a good day's work you did, lad, and that is a precious deal more than I would say if you'd helped any other British officer out of town. Gordon, even though he is a lord and an enemy, is an honest kind of a man, and after the spirit he has shown I'd be sorry to see him a prisoner."

Then Greene, observing the expression of sadness on Mrs. Ball's face as she realized that her son was about to leave her once more, and would probably be exposed to all the dangers of battle, began to talk on indifferent subjects in order to prevent the thoughts of mother and son from dwelling upon the possibilities of disaster, succeeding so well in his purpose that when the moment for departure arrived both were in a reasonably calm frame of mind.

The spy did not allow any prolonged leave-taking, but hurried Enoch away immediately, saying as he left the house:

"You may depend upon it, Mrs. Ball, that you will receive the earliest possible information of our movements, and I have no doubt but that Enoch will return to the city several times before any engagement can ensue. At all events, remember that nothing serious is likely to occur, so far as the army is concerned, for several days. Clinton, owing to his unwieldy train, must of necessity move slowly, and General Washington will not attack until everything is in our favor."

Then he literally forced Enoch from the house, hurrying him so rapidly toward General Arnold's headquarters that the boy was listening to that officer's instructions almost before he fairly realized he had left home to take part in a campaign.

The duty which was now required of him seemed very slight. He was simply to carry a written communication to General Dickinson, and consider himself under that officer's orders after the task had been performed.

Directions were given that he be furnished with a proper equipment, and in the selection of this Greene took an active part, insisting on several articles which Enoch thought needless; critically examining all that was turned over to the boy, and discarding this or that until satisfied in every respect with the complete outfit.

"I'm rigged out like a nabob!" Enoch said proudly when Greene announced that, everything having been provided, there was no necessity for further delay. "If all the soldiers in the army have as much, I can only wonder where Congress finds the money with which to pay for the goods."

"You are rather more generously equipped than the privates," Greene said with a laugh as he assisted the boy to mount. "This horse with his trappings, the two pistols in your belt, and the purse of money, come to you by right of your being on General Washington's staff."

"But you know I don't really hold that position, Mr. Greene, and oughtn't have any more than belongs to me as a private."

"You have received only what is absolutely necessary to permit of your doing the duty required. You may be several days finding General Dickinson, in which case you must lodge at inns, and will need the wherewithal to pay your reckoning. Remember, Enoch, my boy, that although the British have left Philadelphia, they are not very far away from the town, and if you should chance to be made prisoner the situation would be quite as grave as if the old Quaker had succeeded in retaining his hold of your ear. Be careful of yourself; don't trust any one too far, unless you know beyond a question that he is a true friend to the cause, and keep your eyes wide open for treachery wherever you may be."

"How long are you going to stay here?"

"I intend to leave very shortly, and it is not impossible we shall soon meet again. You've got a good horse, lad, one that will serve you if endurance is required, or I'm no judge. Be careful of him at the outset, for the time may come when his speed and bottom will be needed for your own safety. We won't say good-by, for now that you're in the service it seems best to dispense with anything of that kind. Be off with you, and don't show yourself too suddenly to Jacob, or he'll die of envy at seeing you in this rig."

The spy struck the horse on the flank with his open hand, causing the animal to leap forward so suddenly that the young courier was nearly unseated.

General Arnold had instructed Enoch to follow up the highway to Badger's Point, where he would find facilities for crossing, and to act with confidence upon such advice regarding the whereabouts of the New Jersey troops as might be given him by the ferryman, who was a true friend to the cause.

Enoch rode leisurely as Greene had suggested; but before arriving at his destination it became necessary to urge his horse at a faster pace, for it was difficult to pass by the country people living on the road and not stop sufficiently long, in response to their urgent entreaties, to tell them the news.

Although these halts were no longer than absolutely necessary in order to give the desired information, they occupied considerable time, and it was nearly dark when the boy had finished the first stage of the journey.

"Yes, I allow I can ferry you across; but you'll have to swim the horse," the man to whom he had been directed said when Enoch made known his desire. "Have all the Britishers left the city?"

"The last one went before eleven o'clock," Enoch replied, able to speak with certainty as to the time since he had assisted very materially in the departure.

"I allow it'll be many a long day before they're back—leastways that's what I hope. Better take the saddle off, otherwise it'll be soaked. Now lead the horse into the water alongside the boat, and I reckon we can make him swim without any great trouble."

When the skiff was pushed off from the shore, the horse following as if accustomed to acting as his own ferryman, the owner of the craft plied Enoch with questions as vigorously as he worked at the oars, and not until they had landed on the opposite side did the boy have an opportunity of asking regarding the whereabouts of the New Jersey troops.

"You're within three miles of where they allowed to halt to-night. General Dickinson is making for Mount Holly, so I'm told, reckoning the Britishers will strike that place in their march across the State. Keep straight on the road ahead, and you'll hit them before dark, or I'm a Dutchman."

The young courier gave rein to his horse now that the journey appeared so nearly at an end, for he was not only eager to deliver the message, but to be with friends.

The idea of riding around the country at night, knowing that he might at any moment come across detachments of the enemy, was anything rather than pleasing, and he had not been in the service sufficiently long to look upon such matters as ordinary incidents in a soldier's life.

At the end of ten minutes he saw ample signs betokening the passage of a large body of men, and at the end of half an hour drew rein in the midst of the New Jersey forces, who had bivouacked in a pine grove near the main road.

It was not as simple a matter as he had supposed to gain an audience with General Dickinson.

When he was halted by the pickets he fancied that immediately he announced himself as a messenger from General Arnold he would be allowed to proceed at will, instead of which he was detained by the vigilant outpost until the officer of the day could be communicated with, and during fully an hour Enoch sat on his horse, fretting because of the delay, and believing he would have received different treatment if he had been in the garb of a soldier.

The night had come before he was conducted to where General Dickinson was partaking of a supper consisting of cold corn-bread and smoked fish, in company with several of his staff.

Enoch saluted awkwardly, and as he held the bridle of his horse with one hand, extended General Arnold's letter in the other, without speaking.

"Where are you from, my lad?" the general asked as he took the missive, but without looking at it.

"Philadelphia, sir."

"Haven't I met you before?"

"Yes, sir; I am the boy who went into town with Greene before the British left."

"And because of a stroke of rare good fortune at a time when beset by enemies were enabled to bring important information?"

"Yes, sir."

"As a member of General Washington's staff," and there was a curious smile on Dickinson's face as he spoke, "it is proper I invite you to mess with my aids. My orderly will care for your horse."

"If you please, sir, I had rather look out for him myself, and as for rations, I can get them anywhere. I don't fancy the commander-in-chief really meant that I was an aid. It seemed to be only a question of my getting rations at the time."

"And that is all it is just now, lad. Help yourself, if you are hungry. Take care of your own horse if you choose; in fact do whatever pleases you during the night. I shall send you on to the main army in the morning."

Enoch bowed, wheeled his horse around and started off irresolutely, not knowing exactly in which direction to proceed, until the general's orderly overtook him and said in a kindly tone:

"If you will follow me, my boy, I will show you where to get provender for your horse and rations for yourself."

"I have two friends somewhere among this force, and would like to find them."

"They are in the same company with Greene, the spy, are they not?"

"Yes, sir."

"You will find them over here to the right. Suppose you let me take the beast? The general's servants will care for him as well as you could. You need have no fear, so far as he is concerned, for he will fare better than you will, I am afraid."

Enoch hesitated just an instant before doing as the orderly suggested, and had but just released the bridle-rein when Seth and Jacob came running up.

Turning toward his friends with a cry of joy, Enoch clasped their hands as if he had never expected to see them again, and Master Ludwick asked in a suspicious tone:

"Where did you get that horse?"

"At General Arnold's headquarters."

"Did you swap him for the beast we took from Wharton's stable?"

"Certainly not; that one was turned over to the army at the same time yours was."

"But how does it happen you are riding, and what are you doing here?"

"I came with a message from General Arnold to General Dickinson."

"Then you are an aid?" and Jacob spoke in a tone of envy.

"Indeed I am not! I'm going to enlist at the very first chance; but of course I had to bring this message, and must go to the main army to-morrow. When that has been done, however, I shall sign the rolls in order to be with you fellows."

"If you ride around on horseback, carrying messages from one general to the other, of course you are an aid," Jacob began petulantly, and then, as if ashamed of himself for showing his ill-temper because his comrade had been favored, he added: "Who knows what Seth and I will be after the battle is over, for we are bound to have one mighty soon, and then there will be plenty of chances where a fellow can earn a commission."

'"You allow that to fret you not a little, Jacob," Seth said reprovingly. "It is the good of the cause you should consider—nothing else."

"I can do all that is in my power for the cause, and still keep my eyes open for a commission," Master Ludwick replied stoutly. "If I had been allowed to go to Philadelphia with Enoch and Greene, things would have been different."

"But isn't being a soldier in the Continental army enough for you?" Enoch asked.

"No, it isn't, and you will find that it ain't enough for you when you get here. I want to do what I can for the cause, and am as anxious as any fellow could be; but after you've stayed around the encampment a spell you'll see that a private don't count for very much, except—"

Master Ludwick was interrupted by the coming of one of General Dickinson's staff, who halted in front of the boys as he asked:

"Are either of you acquainted in this section of the country?"

"Seth and I were over it a good bit last fall," Jacob said.

"Are you boys willing to perform a little extra service?"

Jacob replied very promptly in the affirmative. If he could always be detailed for "extra service" he would be quite content with his lot.

"General Dickinson wants to send some one toward Mount Holly, and he would prefer that whoever goes should volunteer."

"We are ready," Seth said as the officer paused. "What is to be done?"

"The proposition simply is to lounge along the road in an apparently aimless fashion, and, if the enemy are not too near to render it dangerous, enter Mount Holly. The purpose is to learn in which direction Clinton proposes to march from that town, and whether the scout be successful or not, it is necessary you should return to the command within forty-eight hours."

"When are we to start?" Jacob asked.

"At once. You are to go on foot, and wear nothing which might indicate that you belong to the army."

"Then we are to act as spies," Enoch said in a tone of disappointment.

"No, lad, nothing of the kind, for it is not your purpose to enter the enemy's lines. You will simply be an independent scouting party. If you are willing to perform this work I will wait until your preparations have been made in order to pass you out."

"That won't take many minutes," Master Ludwick replied, and now all traces of his ill-humor had vanished. If he was to be engaged in active service, rather than confined to the dull routine of the camp, it was to him a most desirable change.

"I suppose we are not to carry weapons?"

"Certainly not. Discard everything which might give those whom you meet the impression that you are soldiers."

In less than ten minutes the boys were being escorted out past the pickets, and Enoch said to the officer in an apologetic tone:

"I am sorry to give so much trouble, sir, but would you see to it that some one looks after my horse and the equipment I have left?"

"All your belongings shall be cared for, my boy. Now one last word: It is not impossible that we may be on the march to-morrow; but you will have no trouble in finding the command. Be prudent; don't take unnecessary risks for the purpose of gaining information, and remember that your errand will have been well performed when you know in which direction General Clinton intends to march after leaving Mount Holly."

Then the boys, saluting, walked rapidly down the road in the darkness, and Jacob said in a tone of satisfaction:

"Now this is what I call the proper kind of a job! I am more than willing to do a thing of this sort; but hanging around the camp, carrying a musket first in one fashion and then another, is what I don't like."

"Yet it is necessary you should know how to do such things before you can call yourself a soldier," Seth suggested. "I suppose you had supper with General Dickinson, Enoch?"

"Indeed I didn't," Master Ball replied, "and I feel as if I could eat almost anything."

"Do you mean to say you haven't had food since you left Philadelphia?"

"Yes."

"But why didn't you say something about it before we left camp?"

"Because it seemed necessary we should start without delay, and I didn't want to appear so girlish as to declare I must have something to eat when there was work to be done."

"I don't call that girlish. A fellow must have a full stomach or he can't do much work."

"We'll get something after awhile. You see we've money between us, now, for General Arnold gave me two pounds before I left, and since it was to be used in the service, I shall be able to get what supplies are needed."

"Let's stop at the first respectable-looking house we see," Seth suggested. "It is getting so late that anything of the kind must be done before the people go to bed, for I don't fancy our reception would be very pleasant if we awakened any one with the proposition to sell us food."

"We won't do that yet awhile. I reckon I can do without my supper two or three hours."

"But you see," and Jacob halted suddenly, "General Dickinson couldn't have intended that we should travel all night, for there is nothing to be learned while everybody is in bed."

"I should suppose if we walked until midnight we would be somewhere near Mount Holly, and then the proper course will be to ask for lodgings at a farmhouse, unless we come across an inn."

With this understanding the boys continued on at a reasonably rapid pace, discussing as they walked the probability of a battle in the near future.

Before they had traveled the length of time agreed upon, lights, apparently of a town, could be seen in the distance ahead, and Seth said in surprise:

"I thought Mount Holly was very much further away; but I must have been mistaken, for there's no question about that's being the town. Do you think it is safe for us to go there before daylight?"

"Why not?" Jacob asked.

"Because if the Britishers intend to strike that place, we may find ourselves in trouble."

"We'd better stay where we are until morning," Enoch suggested. "Suppose we try to get lodgings in that house?" and he pointed a short distance ahead on the right, where could be seen dimly in the darkness a collection of buildings.

With never a thought in their minds that they might meet with enemies quite as dangerous as could be found in the British army, the boys turned into the lane leading from the main road, and went rapidly toward the house.