rong, and yet wondering more and more at her real
connection with the various events. The chief had not stated what
information of value Grant had promised to reveal; nor what Eric's first
report had contained. In my sudden disappointment I had forgotten to
inquire. And where could the boy be? What could have happened to him?
Something serious surely to keep him thus hidden for nearly a month.
Claire would know, but she was probably long ago back in Philadelphia in
the heart of the British garrison. And I? Well, I was tied hand and foot
by discipline; helpless to turn aside from duty now in the face of this
new campaign. Every man was needed, and no personal consideration would
excuse my leaving the ranks even for a day. It was with heavy heart I
rode into the camp of my regiment, and lay down on the bare ground, with
head pillowed upon the saddle, knowing the drums would sound in a few
short hours.

It was hard to work through the routine of the next few days, although
some excitement was given us of Maxwell's brigade by scouting details
sent across the valley to observe the movements of the British patrols.
On such duty I passed the greater portion of two days in the saddle, and,
by chance, met both Farrell and Duval, who were with the Jersey
militiamen, now rapidly coming in to aid us, as the rumors of an
impending battle spread across country. Farrell came at the head of fifty
men, rough looking, raggedly dressed fellows, but well armed, and I had a
word with him while pointing out where Dickinson's troops were camped.
Unfortunately he knew little of value to me. Mortimer's column of Queen's
Rangers had passed his place on their return to Philadelphia two days
after my escape. Grant was not with them, but Claire was, while Peter had
been left behind at Elmhurst. Fagin had not been overtaken, although the
Rangers had engaged in a skirmish with some of his followers, losing two
men. Colonel Mortimer had been wounded slightly. As to Eric he knew
nothing--no one had even mentioned the lad's name.

It was thus clearly evident I could do nothing, although I now possessed
a well defined theory of just what had occurred. To my mind Eric was in
the hands of Fagin, either hidden securely away among the sand caves for
some purpose connected with Grant's treachery, or else with the intention
of claiming the reward for his capture offered by Howe. The former
probably seemed most likely in view of Grant's failure to return to
Ph