Adventure, February 20, 1922 — page 121: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

The White Dawn I revealed myself to Mr. Bowen. I was to carry his reports into our lines.” “That kettle of fish is tipped over,” was Bowen’s disconsolate interruption. It was now light enough, thanks to a -square hole in the east end of the shack, for rge to take note of the strain the maid had been under. The pallor of her face was noticeable despite the dirt she had rubbed across her cheeks, and the dark rings around her eyes made her look all eyes. ‘We'll eat,’ I said. We had the earthen floor for chairs, the same for a table, and nothing on which to serve the fowl. Bowen, providentially, had brought along the mug from the loft and triumphantly produced it from a capacious pocket. From another pocket he fished out a sheet of paper which he: said he could sacrifice for the fowl, and on this the maid managed to carve the meat with my clasp- knife while I mixed rum and water. ‘Why didn’t you inform against Sant when you saw him drop the papers into the carriage?” “T wasn’t sure. I knew something was wrong. After General Arnold left us Madame Betworth .told me about him. They always trusted me as if I had been a member of the family. If I had spoken after that he would have been hung off- hand. It would have broken my ladies’ hearts. _I Jove them. I couldn’t do it. They wouldn’t have turned me over to the hangman even if they had discovered I was a spy. Then aside from all that I knew they expected me to deliver his papers. By failing to do so I would spoil his work.” “Too temperamental,” sighed Bowen. ‘Women always are for this sort of work. Good agents where deception and stealth are necessary. but lack fiber when it comes to a crisis. My-chance for doing big things is spoiled. I spent two years in England, building myself up. I was sending home much important news by the way of France, but my best work was to be done here in New York. Now it’s all ended.” The maid was in the game without realiz- ing the possible responsibilities it carried. 119 She had understood the dangers she ‘ran, and doubtless they spurred her on. I was in it because I could not well refuse Arnold’s request. But Bowen was the man born for the part. His downcast mien reflected the sorrow he was feeling to think he could play the spy no longer. “T’ll scout a bit and see if there is a chance of our getting through. Night ought to findgis at King’s Bridge. Mistress Osmond must get through at all costs, and General Washington must receive our word that Howe goes to Philadelphia, sailing to the | Chesapeake. That is the really important news. He will not go up the Hudson to join Burgoyne.” This announcement failed to create the ,. The maid ate | effect I had looked for. daintily and Bowen tore away savagely at the fowl, and gloomily said: “Tf I don’t make it you can add to your budget that Lord George St. Germaine, Secretary of State for the Colonies, has been guilty of the almost unbelievable negligence of not sending Howe any orders to, cooperate with Burgoyne.* It’s rich. Burgoyne has his orders to cooperate; Howe has none. Burgoyne must go to Albany. St. Germaine called at his office to sign the two sets of orders when on his™ \ 7a i . Ae We ) Bat ) way to Kent for an outing. The orders for — Howe were slovenly penned and the minister directed they be fair copied. The office staff was to send them into the country after him to be signed. This was never done. The minister did not remember the matter and the packet sailed with Bur- goyne’s explicit orders, but carried none for Howe. Why, Howe began his Philadelphia plans back in April. Burgoyne is advanc- ing, taking it for granted Howe will meet | him. Howe doesn’t like the idea of sharing honors with any one. The capture of Philadelphia will be his own personal triumph. What irony of fate if St. Ger- » maine’s excursion into Kent should lose England her colonies!” “God give it may be so!” softly cried the girl. *A fact. TO BE CONTINUED (E(@) books (E(0)