Part 8 (1/2)

”There are Tories everywhere,” said he, at length.

”I am not speaking of Tories,” said Ezra, ”but of what looks like a regularly organized system of British espionage.”

Then he related his experiences to Ben, who sat in round-eyed wonder, drinking in the story. When he had finished there was a long silence; then Ben said:

”It seems to be a sort of place of call for them, with an officer of the British service in command?”

Ezra nodded.

”But,” continued Ben, ”it all seems very queer to me. Why is such a strange person as you describe this Abdallah to be concerned in it? And why is a place, so out of the way as that one, selected as a headquarters?”

”To be out of the way, must be an advantage in a matter of their kind,”

smiled Ezra.

”No doubt. But that is not just what I mean. This adventurer, Gilbert Scarlett, for example, brings a packet of papers from Cambridge. They are read upon your delivering them; and you are sent with an answer to a gentleman at a place near Charlestown. Why is that? It would have been much simpler and less inconvenient to have sent the message to the 'Indian's Head' in the first place.”

Again Ezra nodded.

”I get your point,” he said. ”And I have been thinking over the same thing ever since I left Abdallah's house.”

Ben glanced quickly at his friend; there was that in his tone that attracted his attention.

”And you have made up your mind to something, I know,” said he.

”Not altogether. But I have figured out some possibilities. This spy system, while under the supervision of a British officer, has been organized by Abdallah. He was imported by Gage for just this purpose. It is possible that it is his profession. Experience has probably taught him to isolate himself. But his spies, who are perhaps unknown to each other, are scattered all about. When they have anything to report, they send a rider who can be trusted; and he in turn carries the answer, if one is called for, to a person who stands close to Gage and his counselors.”

Ben rapped the oaken table smartly with his knuckles by way of applause.

”Good!” cried he. ”That is just the way of it!” He looked at his friend in high admiration for a moment. ”And it is very fortunate that you stumbled across it. Yes,” thoughtfully, as he renewed his inroads on the bacon, ”Abdallah is the chief spy, as you think. His little tilts with Major Buckstone show that plainly enough.”

They discussed the matter for a long time, over the remnants of their meal. The fact that the British had discovered the practically unguarded condition of Boston Neck worried the boys not a little. One swift rush of the trained regiments of the King might undo all the good that had been accomplished. They spoke in low voices, for the landlord, and now and then some other of the inn people, were constantly about; at length some patrons entered and took seats at no great distance.

Safe in a hamlet where practically all were united in hatred of the laws of Parliament, the boys gave little heed to those who came or went. The newcomers ordered elaborately of the fare of the ”Plow and Harrow”; the host, in high good humor, bustled about giving them his best attention.

”Your horses, gentlemen,” said he, ”should be rubbed down and unsaddled.

It will do them much good.”

”Leave them as they are,” said one of the strangers; ”we may require them at--”

The thin hand of one of his fellows tugged at his sleeve.

”Sh-h-h!” whispered the owner of the hand, warningly.

The first speaker laughed.

”But you are right,” admitted he, with great candor. ”It is a well established fault of mine that I talk too much.”

It so chanced that Ben Cooper sat facing the strangers. He caught the landlord's words and the answer that followed. He also heard the warning ”Sh-h-h!” and saw the tug at the speaker's sleeve.

Lowering his voice, he described the scene to Ezra.