“Unless your father objects to your appointment as my ­Adjutant, you should arrive at the Battletown Tavern by dawn. Rev. Thruston will meet you there with our Rifle Company supply wagon. He will bring with him several leather-bound journal books, a small travel desk, a supply of ink, quills, and waxed oilcloth to protect the records of our Company.

“He will also have a supply of candles, field lanterns, and oil. You will need these since much of your work as my Adjutant will be done at night. During daylight we will march and fight. Do you have any questions?”

By this point my heart was racing and I had so many questions I didn’t know where to begin so I said, “Yes, sir. But it might be best if I wrote them down and we spoke after Rev. Thruston and I meet Friday morning at the Battletown Tavern.”

Rising, the captain said, “Very well. Before you leave here today, I suggest you speak with Mr. Casselman. I saw him and his wife outside. You should inform him I have need of your services and for the time being you will no longer be available to help him at his ferry on the Shenandoah.”

It was the second time he mentioned the Casselmans and I wondered how my new commander knew so much about the menial occupation of a very young person in our county, so I blurted out, “If I may inquire, sir, how is it that you know about my work at the ferry?”

Captain Morgan put his hand on my shoulder and said, “It is my responsibility to know many such things. These are dangerous times and they are about to become much worse than most people understand. Not everyone who claims to be a ‘Patriot’ can be trusted. Those who are not with us are against us. It is good to know friends from enemies—and deal with them accordingly.”

As I had a few moments before when he spoke of being hanged, I felt a sudden chill—as if one of my brothers shoved a handful of snow down the back of my shirt during a winter snowball fight. Only this time, nobody was laughing.

As my mother taught me, I said, “Please excuse me, gentlemen. I must speak with Mr. Casselman.” I grabbed my Henry rifle, told Casey to “Heel!” and went outside to find my former employer.

I found them as they were preparing to depart in their carriage. Mr. and Mrs. Casselman were in the seat and David, Jr. was hunched glumly in the bed of the tram.

“Mr. Casselman, sir. A brief word with you if I may?”

“Yes, Nathanael,” he replied, gently pulling on the reins to halt the two spirited horses.