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 sharply together. "Colonel Hamilton, I dub him spy!" she cried. "He be naught but a British spy!"

As the girl's bold words dwindled into silence, Colonel Hamilton got to his feet and began a troubled pacing up and down the room. Mehitable watched him in silence until he turned to her in sudden decision.

"Mistress Condit," he said, "let us test him. I have a plan!"

And now, his clever mind forming a snap judgment and working out the details in rapid sequence, the young officer approached the table where, seating himself, he took up his quill pen. For half an hour, perhaps, the silence was broken only by the scratching of his pen upon paper, then sanding what he had written, he held out what appeared to be a lengthy and detailed report to Mehitable.

"I have here written, Mistress Condit," Hamilton said, tapping the paper with a long finger, "what purports to be a report. It is an apparent statement of our army's numbers and munitions of war. In reality, I have exaggerated both figures to four times the number. And now, this be my plan." He looked around him cautiously and then bent toward her. "I am to meet Simpson in half an hour's time at Quartermaster General Greene's office. I shall, upon his arrival, have to leave the room and will 'carelessly' leave these papers visible