The Golden Flask Read Free Page B

correspondence? A man at Washington's beck and call every hour of the day?"
    Before Flanagan or Sarah could answer, van Clynne was asking which door they had taken and throwing himself hastily in that direction. The Dutchman ran into the hallway, seeking out his friend with loud en treaties and a sprinkling of even louder curses.
    A personal meeting with General Washington had always been a prominent feature of van Clynne's strat egy to win back the rights to his property — and here was his chance to arrange one. Surely Jake would tell Hamilton that the Dutchman's plea was a righteous one. Surely the young aide would escort him directly to the general.
    But they were nowhere to be found. The landless squire expended a considerable portion of complaints and not a little wheezing before he discovered a stable-hand who had seen them and their mounts head south from the estate. With a great shout, van Clynne real ized Dame Opportunity was about to slip off his door step.
    Not if he could help it. Nor did van Clynne let the fact that the man had only a hazy notion of where the two were going delay him. He trusted to his wits and Fate to reunite them, ere Jake met the general.
    Assuming he set off right away.
    "A horse, a horse!" he demanded. "My land for a horse."
    What Shakespeare might have thought of this plagia rism will not be recorded here. A horse was produced nearly as quickly as the gold from one of the Dutchman's four purses. He thundered into the night, push ing the beast with more fire than Paul Revere displayed the night of his famous tour of the Boston suburbs.

 
 
 
    Chapter Three
 
    Wherein, Jake and Colonel Hamilton make the acquaintance of several shady fellows.
 
    T he cool night air and the rush of excitement at being summoned by General Washington invigorated Jake. H e urged his horse southward with the enthusiasm of a boy released from school the day stripers start their river run. Hamilton was right beside him; the two men took advantage of the strong moon and clear night sky to thunder at full speed through the Hudson Valley hills. They reached the small settlement of Cox sackie, some twenty miles below Albany, in barely the time it would take to spell the name. The horses Ham ilton had chosen were slender but sturdy beasts, identi cally colored — roan, with a single white daub at the left eye. Their muscled legs seemed capable of outrunning the wind.
    As fast as the horses strode, Jake's mind went quicker. He began to fear what might lie ahead. It was not fear for himself. Until presented with a specific danger, Jake Gibbs was not the type to dwell on contin gencies. But he realized that the Revolution had reached a tremulous point. Already, there were rum blings of discontent in the army, and the chronic shortage of funds was becoming acute. While delega tions had been sent abroad to seek foreign support, European powers such as France would not back a cause that appeared headed for defeat. Another major setback — the loss of Boston or Philadelphia, or even Albany—could easily end all hope of assistance.
    The area Jake and Hamilton rode through had been among the first visited by white men after the conti nent's fortunate discovery. The Dutch, including mem bers of the van Clynne family, had made this land their own, exploring, farming, and trading for furs. It was still sparsely settled, however, for various reasons be ginning with the geography. Hills and mountains rose up in jagged lines from the fiver; between them, all manner of ponds, creeks, and streams flowed in crazy- quilt patterns, now shimmering in the moonlight.
    A few miles south of Coxsackie, a stream crossed the roadway to mark a perfect X on the darkened land scape, and it was here that the two Continental officers stopped to refresh their horses and stretch their own arms and legs.
    The spot was idyllic, but the choice was unfortunate, for no sooner had the men slipped off the backs of their mounts than they were warned to