Read The Rangers Are Coming Online
Authors: Phil Walker
Robby smiled, “Nothing like that we just went to Boston on some family business.”
“Nobody travels in a gang like yours in the middle of the winter, unless they’re up to no good,” said the soldier.
“We aren’t a gang,” said Willis, “we are friends keeping each other company and minding our own business.”
“Don’t get uppity with me, kid,” growled the soldier. He turned to the other and said, “Maybe we should take these boys along to quarters and find out what they know.”
The three spread out to have one on each side of the soldiers and one in the middle.
“Sorry, we can’t go anywhere with you,” said Robby, “Our families are expecting us.”
One of the soldiers reached down for the flintlock pistol in his belt. The three Rangers acted instinctively. Charlie smacked both horses hard across their muzzles and both reared up of their front feet. Robby and Willis snatched the men from their horses and threw them to the ground, minus their hand weapons. Both soldiers started to struggle to their feet, grabbing at their swords. They never got them out of their scabbards. The Rangers countered with several hand chops, foot kicks and twisting tosses that threw the soldiers over their shoulders and on their knees. With quick dispatch, Robby and Willis snapped the necks of the two Red Coats. The entire encounter took less than ten seconds.
Quickly the three Rangers pulled the dead British into a low swale off the road and used their knives to cut limbs from trees, rocks, and piles of leaves to conceal the bodies.
“What do we do with the horses,” asked Willis?
“We can’t take them home. Someone might recognize them,” said Robby.
Charlie picked up some stones and threw them at the rear of the horses and they both went galloping away, back toward Boston.
“Let’s get out of here, before someone else comes along,” said Robby, and began a loping trot down the road. The other two followed and they ran at least three miles before, Robby called a halt. “Now we can just go back to being common farmers on our way home to Concord. We are close enough now that we shouldn’t attract any more attention, and we might see some people we know.”
“Nothing of this can be told our families,” said Willis, “They can’t confess something they don’t know no matter who questions them.”
“Agreed,” said Robby.
“That training sure comes in handy,” said Charlie, “It works just like we practice it, except for the broken neck part.”
It was early afternoon when the three, arrived in Concord. They crossed the square to the home and shop of Robby’s father, who was a wagon maker. He called out loudly, “Anybody Home?” The whole family came running out the front door. They descended on their son and hugged and kissed him to pieces. Willis got much the same treatment, and Charlie was greeted equally as warmly when he was introduced as a comrade in arms, with no family.
Robby’s father held his son by the shoulders and looked at his squarely. “Why you’ve come back a man. You must weigh 30 pounds more and it all looks like muscle. Have you actually grown an inch or two? Anyway, son, you look wonderfully fit and in good health.”
His mother just clung to her son and cried tears of joy, while Robby’s two other brothers, one older and one younger, and three sisters, all-younger, hugged him as best they could.
“We have more room than the Grant’s,” said Robby, “could Charlie stay with us?”
“Of course,” said mother Grant, you are more than welcome, Charlie.”
“I’m most grateful, Mrs. Grant. “Thank you for your hospitality.”
“If you don’t mind,” said Willis, “I’m kind of anxious so see my family, so I’ll run along as see you later.”
Everybody said welcome home, best wishes to Willis’ family and they would all get together soon. Willis smiled and headed out, trotting for his home a mile away.
Robby found himself sitting at the family table with everyone firing questions at him. He held up his hands and laughed. “I’ll be here for three weeks, we have plenty of time for all your questions. I’m just so glad to see you all. Haven’t you been getting my letters, they tell pretty much everything we’re doing.
“Of course, we get your letters,” said his mother. “I have to say they’ve changed a great deal over the last two years. The education you talk about receiving must be doing some good. I find myself going to the dictionary to look up some of the words you use.”
“I’m receiving a first class education, Mother. Our commanders say that when we are finished, we’ll know more than a Harvard graduate.
Robby’s older brother chimed in, “When you left you were sort of a beanpole, a little skinny and scrawny. Now I find myself a little afraid to say that to you, because you have filled out so much and seem so fit.”
That got a general laugh, and Robby said, “There is nothing in my heart for you, brother, or any of you, but love, respect and honor. I’m proud to be part of our family.”
“He’s gotten polite too,” said his father.
“General Washington would be very upset with me if I weren’t.”
“You mean George Washington, asked his father? You actually know Mr. Washington?”
“He’s our commanding officer.”
As soon as he said it, Robby regretted it. In his excitement, he had let slip a piece of his story that should have remained unspoken. He recovered and asked, “Tell me all the news of Concord.”
“It’s a grim story, son the British continue to abuse and insult us, as if they were the masters and we the servants. Just yesterday, two Red Coats came to town and summarily ordered us all to meet in the church. There they told us that King George is not at all pleased with the behavior of his subjects in the colonies and that Parliament was considering a number of new measures to insure our compliance with their directives. I spoke directly to the officer and asked him why we should comply with laws over which we had no part in formulating.”
“What did he say to that,” asked Robby?
“He said it was just that kind of impertinence that had caused the King to send 5,000 more troops to Boston, to insure that we understand the King’s mind. Then he ordered me to build a new wagon without a mention of being paid for my work.”
“When does he expect this wagon to be done?
“He said before the first of the year.”
Robby thought furiously. The Red Coats his father had mentioned could not be any others than the very ones he’d killed hours before. They had stripped the bodies, taken the weapons, and what money the men were carrying to make it look like the men were attacked by a larger group of men, or even Indians, in a robbery. When they did not report back or the horses returned, a search party would go looking for them. It might take days to find the bodies. Still there were many people present and the appearance of the Red Coats in Concord would be known, along with the order to build the wagon, so they could not say the men had never come to town.
Undoubtedly, more soldiers would come to Concord to make inquiries. They had no reason to suspect that anyone in Concord had done the killing, but they would certainly know about the order for the wagon. Robby could not say anything about the incident. However, he could help his father to build the wagon. Taking care of the equipment at the Fort was a part of a Ranger’s duty and he’d worked on their wagons fairly often.
“I can help you build the wagon, Father. Repairing wagons was one of my regular duties at the Fort.”
Eventually, Robby had told his entire story of life at the Fort and their preparations for taking a force of men into the wilderness to explore the lands to the west and to make contact with the native tribes to learn if trade could be established. He said that map-making, recording their findings and being able to put it all down on paper was an important part of the process, so that was why the education was so thorough. He also talked about the fact that pioneering was extremely labor intensive work, so the entire party had to be hardened and made as fit as possible before they set out. He bragged about the careful preparations and how they would certainly spell success for the enterprise. It was a completely plausible cover story and no one in the family doubted it.
When they were alone, Robby’s father remarked, “Your expedition organizers must be very wealthy men, to gather over 200 men, educate them, feed and house them and still pay them so much money. I must say, son, it’s a very large benefit to this family to be able to take your draft to Boston every month and receive 2 pounds, 2 shillings in Sterling. I’m most grateful.”
“I’m glad it eases the life of the family and makes your cares less, father.”
“It does that. Your mother has things that no other family in Concord has because of the extra income you provide. We are careful not to let it show.”
The first Sunday Robby was home, the entire family went to church and he was warmly welcomed by the entire community. Charlie was generally adopted as well. Robby had never seen Charlie so happy. At the service, the pastor of the Congregationalist church asked Robby if he would come to the pulpit and tell some of the religious principles that were taught at the Fort. Robby had not expected anything of the kind, so he repeated one of his favorite passages from one of Arcadia’s sermons.
“Jesus Christ is Lord,” said Robby, “to me Jesus is saying, make me your focal point as you move through this day. Just as a spinning ballerina must keep returning her eyes to a given point to maintain her balance, so you must keep returning your focus to Him. Circumstances are in flux, and the world seems to be whirling around you. The only way to keep your balance is to fix your eyes on Him, the one who never changes. If you gaze too long at your circumstances, you will become dizzy and confused. Look to Him, refreshing yourself in His presence, and your steps will be steady and sure.”
This seemed to make sense to the congregation, even though they had never heard it quite that way. In general, Robby’s remarks were seen as refreshing and certainly devout. His family smiled proudly at him.
Charlie joined with Robby to build the wagon. They incorporated a number of improvements to the overall design, particularly with the wheels, that Robby packed in a thick layer of grease that was filled with ball bearings he had constructed in his father’s forge, using shotgun buckshot molds to make the ball bearings. He also put an extra layer of springs under the axels to make wagon ride easier, and made the seats more like bucket seats for comfort. The two of them built the entire wagon in two days and nights while Robby’s father was helping a neighbor with his harvest.
When his father returned and found a new wagon sitting in the yard, he was amazed. He was even more astonished at how much more comfortable the wagon was and how smoothly the wheels turned, making the job of pulling the wagon easier for the horses and increasing the effective daily range of the wagon.
“They certainly have taught you some practical improvements in wagon making, said Robby’s father. “I hate to hand this beauty over to the British.”
“Don’t worry father, most of the improvements they could not do on their own and they would never take the wheels apart to find the ball bearings. However, others will come to know of your better wagon and you can make more and charge more. Let me run through the improvements with you, so you can make them on your own.”
On Christmas day, Robby pulled out all the things he had brought for his family. For his mother he gave her a large plastic bottle of dishwashing soap, and a very concentrated box of laundry detergent. For each member of the family he gave a large bar of sweet-smelling, long-lasting hand soap. For his father Robby gave the proceeds of the dollar each month he had held back for 24 months. It amounted to almost 10 pounds sterling, a huge amount for that time. Before anyone had gotten up Robby and Charlie hid silver shillings in places all over the house, and when the family rose, he sent them all on a big treasure hunt. It was a wonderful highlight for the day.
Robby knew that Willis had done much the same for his family, and for them it was an even bigger benefit, for the Grant family who did not enjoy all the luxuries of the Pierce household.
In the final days of his visit, it was Robby’s mother who almost blew his cover. On afternoon when the two of them were alone in the kitchen, chatting, Robby’s mother, whose sharp mind he’d always admired, said to him, “Robby, my guess is that there are a great many things you have had to withhold from us. You must know the circumstances under which you are living, the wondrous things you’ve brought, which do not exist in any other place I know of, must be part of something much bigger and more important than you have told. It’s almost as if rich, incredibly advanced foreigners had come to these colonies for the purpose of helping you throw off the mantle of the British.
“I do not ask you to break trust and explain any of these wonders to me, just know that I know they exist, and believe they are for good and not evil. I also know that your duties will eventually put you in harm’s way. In those moments, may the Lord be with you, and return you to me.”
“You must not speak your suspicions to anyone, mother. I beg you and ask your word that what has been said will not be repeated.”
“I promise, Robert.”
“In that case, I will tell you one thing. You are much closer to the truth than you know. However, in due course, everyone will know, and on that day you will rejoice.”
For the young Rangers, the goodbyes were tearful and also joyful. The three companions left on a cold January morning and walked back to their rendezvous point.
Late that night, they were home again in their warm rooms and comfortable beds at Fort Independence.
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