arated from the tall man
with whom he had come from the redoubt, but soon saw him again, this
time directing the retreat, and learned that he was Colonel Prescott,
of Pepperell. Some of the rebels discussed Harry freely in his own
hearing, inferring from his attire that he was of the British, and
wondering why he was not a prisoner. Harry asked to be taken to the
commander, and at Cambridge a coatless, bare-headed captain led him
to General Ward, of the Massachusetts force. That veteran militiaman
heard his story, gave it credit, and, with no thought that he might be
a spy, invited him to remain at the camp as a volunteer. Harry
obtained a suit of blue clothes, and quartered in one of the Harvard
College buildings. In a few days news came that the Congress at
Philadelphia had resolved to organize a Continental army, of which the
New England force at Cambridge was to be the present nucleus; that a
general-in-chief would soon arrive to take command, and that the
general-in-chief appointed was a Virginian,--Colonel Washington. Harry
was jubilant.

Early in July the new general arrived, and Harry paid his respects to
him in the house of the college president. General Washington advised
the boy to send another letter of resignation, then to go home and
join the troops that his own State would soon be raising. On hearing
Harry's story, Washington had given a momentary smile and a look at
Major-General Charles Lee, who had but recently published his
resignation of his half-pay as a retired British officer, and who did
not know yet whether that resignation would be accepted or himself
considered a deserter.

Peyton sent a new letter of resignation to Boston, then procured a
horse, and started to ride to Virginia. Six days later he was in New
York. In a coffee-house where he was dining, he struck up an
acquaintance with three young gentlemen of the city, and told his name
and story. One of the three--a dark-eyed man--thereupon changed manner
and said he had no time for a rascally turncoat. Harry, in hot
resentment, replied that he would teach a damned Tory some manners. So
the four went out of the town to Nicholas Bayard's woods, where, after
a few passes with rapiers, the dark-eyed gentleman was disarmed, and
admitted, with no good grace, that Harry was the better fencer. Harry
left New York that afternoon, having learned that his antagonist was
Mr. John Colden, son of the postmaster of New York. His grandfather
had been lie