“Captain Morgan!” Mr. Colburn shouted. “So good to see you again, sir! Welcome to Gardinerston, Maine, a thriving place named for its founder, Doctor Sylvester Gardiner, a medical doctor, the fellow who built the water-powered sawmill and gristmill here—and perhaps the Colonies’ largest importer of laudanum to apothecaries like Benedict Arnold’s.

“Dr. Gardiner has but one serious flaw—his affection for mad King George. For that reason, Sylvester is not here to welcome you. In June, after the battles for Breed’s and Bunker’s Hills, he fled to Boston. Now, sir, we must greet Colonel Arnold. Where is he?”

Captain Morgan, until now mute, quietly replied, “Good to see you again, as well, Mr. Colburn. Colonel Arnold is on the schooner Broad Bay, the third vessel aft of us. May I inquire, sir, where are the 200 batteaux into which we are to transfer the cargo and personnel of this expedition?”

“Ahh, yes,” replied Mr. Colburn. “The 200 completed batteaux are staged at my boat yard, near my home, just upriver from here. We shall proceed there immediately as soon as Colonel Arnold and I conclude some business.”

At that, Mr. Colburn feigned some sort of salute, spun about, and departed down the gangway with Mr. Burr hurrying in trace.

Captain Morgan watched them go and then said, more to himself than William or me, “Lord, that man can talk. I pray he managed to build two hundred batteaux with the same alacrity.”

While Colonel Arnold and Mr. Colburn were closeted aboard Broad Bay, we offloaded our two wagons and draft horses, formed up the entire Advance Force and moved two miles upriver on good road to Mr. Colburn’s place.

On arrival, we learned Mr. Colburn was a better talker than batteaux builder.

A crew of more than forty men were hard at work on a large field close to the Kennebec. Some were sawing green lumber—aspen, birch, beech, fir, pine, spruce, even some maple and oak into boards of various lengths and boat-framing parts. Another group carried the cut boards to an area where a third crew, wielding hammers, were nailing the boards to rough-cut frames in the approximate shape of a flat-bottomed, double ended boat.

After a quick walk-through the “boat yard,” with 1st Lt. Humphrey, Captains Hendricks and Smith—our two Pennsylvania Rifle Company commanders—and me, Captain Morgan called us into a circle. “Move our men over to that open field. Each company take a muster to ensure we are all present or accounted for. Set up our usual perimeter and dig some sanitation pits but don’t set up tents yet.