As we grabbed our rifles, backpacks, and gear, Capt. Febiger said, “You are a wise man, Sergeant Cady.” As we proceeded out of port at a canter, I checked my pocket watch. It was precisely 7:00 p.m.

It took us just fifteen minutes before we sighted the van of the Advance Force column coming toward us. We were not surprised to see Capt. Morgan striding out in front of the long column. He greeted us with a smile and said, “We have a few stragglers—but none from Frederick County.”

We led them the last mile or so to the bivouac site we selected. After testing the light breeze with an upraised wet finger, Capt. Morgan picked a place along the tree line close to the farmhouse for his headquarters and a perimeter for our Rifle Company. He then pointed out to 1st Lt. Humphrey where the others should ground their gear, set up tents, post night guards, and dig sanitary pits.

While all he directed was being done, we had a few minutes to talk. I asked, “What time did you leave Cambridge this morning, sir?”

“General Gates said we couldn’t depart until this morning so we marched out at 1:00 a.m.”

I did the math in my head. Eighteen hours to walk thirty-one or so miles. Nearly two miles per hour. He added, “It’s much easier than our hike from Virginia. Pretty flat, good road. The wagons had a tough time getting across that ford a few miles back but they will be here soon. What have you learned?”

As dusk settled over the encampment, Capt. Febiger and I filled him in on all we experienced and were told—particularly about the assurances we received about the shipping and the saddlebags full of British and Spanish coins. We then offered to return to town, gather our gear and the money, and return.

He thought about it for a moment, then said, “You two and the dragoons go back to the port. Tomorrow morning at 9:00, be here with two saddle horses for 1st Lt. Humphrey and me and we will ride into Newburyport, meet the gentlemen you have spoken of, and start planning to launch this expedition. I am increasingly concerned about how late it is in the season.”

By now, it was dark and the three-quarter moon was just rising over the harbor. We saluted, mounted our horses, and headed toward the port. As we rode, the offshore breeze picked up a bit. And for the first time in five months, I could feel just the slightest chill in the air.

Newburyport, Massachusetts

Tuesday, September 12th, 1775

At precisely 8:30 this morning, Capt. Febiger, Sgt. Cady, his detachment of dragoons, and I arrived at the Advance Force bivouac outside Newburyport with two extra steeds for Capt. Morgan and 1st Lt. Humphrey. We spent the balance of the day meeting aboard Machias Liberty with Captain O’Brien and a dozen merchant captains. We also ordered fresh beef, pork, fish, and vegetables from local merchants for delivery to our encampment on Wednesday to feed our Advance Force.