However, they had little time for the solving of riddles. There was
work to be done, work, which in these stirring times, might perhaps
help to make history.

As they neared the mill, Will motioned to them to stay where they
were, and ran ahead to intercept a guard. A moment later he returned
with the latter, and the whole party made its way hurriedly and
stealthily in a roundabout direction, which would almost certainly
intercept the spy--if spy he were.

"Oh, Betty," whispered Grace, close to the Little Captain's ear.
"I've always been horribly afraid of spies. Do you suppose he's got a
gun?"

"I never heard of a spy that didn't," returned Betty grimly. "But
don't worry--we have one, too."

"Better not talk," warned Roy, close at their side. "A whisper may
mean a bullet."

Grace almost screamed, but Betty's firm little hand across her mouth
smothered it into something between a sob and a squeak.

"Hush," whispered Betty fiercely. "You'll spoil everything."

At that moment, the sharp crack of a twig somewhere to the left of
them in the woods, made them stop suddenly and stand motionless,
listening.