On the afternoon of the second day after the departure of Dick Dare from patriot headquarters in New York, Tom Dare appeared there, and to the orderly at the door said:

“I wish to see General Washington, sir.”

“Oh, you do, eh?” was the query. The orderly could not imagine what business this sixteen-year-old boy could have with the commander-in-chief.

“Yes, sir. Show me to his presence, please.”

The orderly looked at the eager, bright face of the boy with more of interest.

“Who are you?” he queried.

“My name is Tom Dare.”

“Tom Dare!” in surprise. “Why, there was a young fellow here a couple of days ago whose name was Dare–Dick Dare, I believe it was.”

“Yes,” quietly; “he is my brother.”

“Ah, your brother! Are you a member of the patriot army, also?”

“Yes, sir. I'm in Colonel Morgan's regiment.”

The orderly stared.

“Well!” he murmured; “the Dares seem to be pretty well represented in the Continental Army.”

“Yes, sir. Our father was captured by Tories, and Dick and I made up our minds that we would join the patriot army and do all we could to bring about the defeat of the British and Tories, and if possible rescue our father.”

“Well, that is the right spirit, certainly.”

“Will you show me to the presence of the commander-in-chief, sir?” questioned Tom, eagerly. “I am very desirous of seeing him,” he added, earnestly.

“Come with me,” was the reply; “I will speak to the commander-in-chief, and if he is willing, I will conduct you to his presence.”

Tom accompanied the orderly along the hall, pausing presently when told to do so. The orderly said he would be back in a few moments, and disappeared in a room at one side. He quickly returned and said that General Washington would see the youth.

The next moment he ushered Tom into the presence of the commander-in-chief, announcing:

“Master Tom Dare.”

The general looked up from some papers he was examining, and gave Tom a keen, searching glance.

“You are Master Tom Dare,” he said.

“Yes, your excellency,” saluting.

“Brother to Dick Dare?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Very good. What can I do for you, my boy?” The great man's air and tone were kindly, and Tom, encouraged, said:

“I have come to ask a favor, sir.”

“What is the favor? Be brief, as my time is of value, my boy.”

“Very well, sir. I have come to ask that you let me go over onto Long Island, the same as you have done with Dick.”

General Washington looked at the boy in surprise.

“Why do you want to do that?” he queried.

“I want to be with Dick, sir, or near him, all the time, if possible. I promised my mother that I would stay at Dick's side and fight side by side with him, and if I stay here, when he is over on Long Island, I won't be keeping my word, sir. Something might happen to Dick. He might get into trouble with the British, and if I was near at hand, I could render him assistance, and if he were captured, I might be able to rescue him. I hope you will let me go, sir.”

The commander-in-chief looked thoughtfully at the boy. There was a look of admiration in his eyes, and to himself he said: “A brave pair of lads are those two Dares, I feel certain.” Aloud he said, after a few moments:

“I don't know whether to grant your request or not, my boy. I have sent Dick over to Long Island on a spying expedition, and if you were to go also and join him, it might hamper him in his work. At the same time, I dislike to refuse your request, since you made your mother the promise that you would stay by your brother's side. Still, you can hardly hope to be always together. War is cruel, and one can not always do as one would like, or be where one would wish to be. We must all go where we think we can be of the most benefit to the Cause, and do that which will be most beneficial. Do you think you could do Dick any good, if I were to let you go, my boy?”

“I think it possible, sir. He is going into great danger, as I understand it, and I might render him very valuable assistance. At any rate, if you will let me go, I will promise that at least I will not in any way interfere with his work or do anything to cause him to fail in the task he has before him.”

“Very good. Then I will grant your request. Go, my boy; but be careful. I will give you a note to General Putnam, on Brooklyn Heights, and he will tell you which way to go to find your brother.”

“Thank you, sir. You are very kind, and I will try to do nothing to cause you to regret that you let me go.”

“That is right.” The commander-in-chief wrote a brief note, addressed it to General Putnam and handed it to Tom.

“There. Now go, my boy, and may you succeed in joining your brother and benefit to him in his work. Good-bye,” and he gave the boy's hand a friendly grasp.

“Good-bye, your excellency,” and saluting, Tom took his departure.

He hastened down to the East River dock and got a boatman to take him across to the east shore, after which he made his way as quickly as possible to the patriot quarters on Brooklyn Heights.

When he presented himself before General Putnam, and handed over the note, the officer, after a perusal of the few words written there, looked at the boy in some surprise and with no little interest.

“Another one,” he said, with something like a grim smile. “The Dares certainly seem to be in evidence to-night.”

“Dick was here, then, sir?” eagerly.

“Yes, he was here.”

“How long has he been gone?”

“Oh, about an hour, I should judge. He had to remain here until this evening on account of the storm.”

“Please direct me how to go in order to overtake him, General Putnam.”

“I will do so as nearly as possible, my boy.” Then the general gave Tom all the directions possible, and the boy said:

“Thank you, sir. I will try to join my brother to-night.”

“You had better keep your eyes open, Master Dare,” cautioned General Putnam. “You are going where redcoats are thicker than mosquitoes, and that is saying a good deal.”

“I'll look out for them, sir,” with a smile. “Good-bye, and thank you, General Putnam.”

“That's all right. You are welcome. Good-bye and good luck.”

Tom took his departure, and as soon as he was out of the patriot encampment, he hastened away in the direction that he had been told Dick had undoubtedly gone.

“Perhaps by hurrying I may be able to overtake Dick,” was his thought.

He walked swiftly, at times running, and came to the wooded hills much quicker than Dick had done. He climbed the hill quickly, and was soon making his way down the other side. He had gone only a few steps when he heard the report of the musket-shot, sounding close at hand and almost in front of him.

Instantly Tom was greatly excited. The thought came to him at once that a redcoat had fired that shot and that it had been fired at Dick, and with wildly-beating heart he ran forward, at the same time drawing a pistol from his belt. Tom was excited, but not at all frightened. His only fear was that perhaps Dick had been wounded or killed by the bullet from the musket, and he was eager to get a shot at the person who had just done the shooting.

Suddenly he heard voices, and paused, listening intently.

“I wonder if I got the rebel?” he heard one say.

“Likely you did,” replied another voice. “I don't hear the sound of running feet any more.”

“Served the rascal right if I put a bullet through him,” said the first voice.

“Yes. That is what ought to happen to all rebels.”

Tom heard these words, and his heart sank, and then a feeling of anger blazed up in his heart. What if Dick was killed, as these soldiers surmised. It was terrible to contemplate, and acting on the spur of the moment, Tom leveled his pistol, pointing in the direction from which the voices sounded, and pulled the trigger.

Crack! went the pistol, and a howl of pain, rage and surprise commingled went up on the night air.

“Oh—ow!—ouch! I'm shot!” cried one of the voices. “There are other rebels at hand, comrade! Perhaps we're surrounded!”

This gave Tom an idea, and he at once acted upon it. If he could make the redcoats think there were a number of patriot soldiers around, they might be put to flight, and then he could look for Dick, and learn whether he were injured.

“Come on, boys!” he yelled loudly. “Charge the scoundrelly redcoats! Kill them! At them, I say!” And then, drawing his other pistol, he fired another shot.

He had no way of knowing whether this bullet hit either of the redcoats, but he had evidence that it was effective in one way, for he heard the British soldiers going tearing down the slope, through the underbrush at a great rate. They had undoubtedly been seized with a panic and taken to their heels.

Tom waited till he could no longer hear any sounds of the fleeing redcoats, and then he called out:

“Dick! Oh, Dick!”