Davidson was attacked by three slashers as he was searching
for me. They met him as he was coming from your store along the
waterfront. Fortunately he was able to put the three to route."

"How did he know they were slashers?"

"Because they demanded the letter he was carrying. It proves that they
were spies, and knew from whence the courier had come."

"It does seem reasonable," the trader agreed. "But I did not know they
were hanging around our store. There has been such a crowd there,
though, the last two days that I could not tell the slashers from the
Loyalists. However, I shall keep a sharp watch after this, and if I
catch them I shall let you know at once. But what about Davidson? He
must be hard pressed, or he would not have sent you that urgent appeal."

"I can't send him any men, Mr. Simonds, that's certain," and the Major
thrummed upon the table as he spoke. "Why, it would take a regiment to
do any good, and I have barely fifty men in all. But I am going to
send him a supply of guns and ammunition. They must go on the _Polly_,
and you are to give Leavitt strict instructions to see that they are
delivered to Davidson as speedily as possible. That is the best I can
do."

A sharp rap sounded upon the door, and at once a soldier entered. He
advanced to the centre of the room, stopped, clicked his heels
together, saluted, and stood at attention.

"Well, Parker, what is it?" the Major asked..

"A man to see you, sir."

"A courier?"

"Yes, sir."

"Send him in at once."

"Yes, sir."

Again the soldier saluted, wheeled, and left the room. In another
minute Dane entered, and at once walked over to where the two men were
sitting. His free and easy manner was in striking contrast to the
soldier's, and this the Major noted. He admired the courier's frank
open countenance, and clear, fearless eyes. He was a man after his own
heart.

"I am glad to see you on time," he accosted.

"I generally try to be," Dane replied. "Have you the message for
Davidson?"

"It's not ready yet, but I shall write it at once."

The Major turned to the table, drew a sheet of paper toward him, and
picked up a quill pen, which he examined critically before dipping it
into the ink. Again he turned to the courier.

"The situation is serious up river, is it not?" he asked.

"It certainly is. Davidson must have help."

"Where is the greatest danger?"

"That is hard to tell. The slashers are scattered over