Woods Runner by Gary Paulsen Page A

about the cavalry and they nodded. Samuel thought they should be moving off the side of the trail into the brush but didn’t say anything. They probably knew more than he did, since they’d been fighting.
    He was very glad that he and Annie had run into Abner but knew that if they hadn’t, they would have traveled as much as possible in the thick brush. In the woods was life. Out here in the open …
    “You said two,” Samuel said, watching the men until they were out of sight. If the cavalry were coming back they would be caught, probably killed. It all seemed so crazy: men walking down a road, somebody coming along and killing them. “Two reasons to help us. What’s the other one?”
    “Well, the first one was almost all rubbish. I mean, it’s true, but maybe a little too flowery to be real. I like the way it sounds, though, almost like it might be written somewhere.” Abner chuckled. “Being alone most of the time, I don’t get much chance to flower things up. MaybeI should write it down. Somebody might read it sometime and think I was more than I really am.”
    Lord, Samuel thought, for somebody who spends most of his time alone, he sure does like to hear his own voice. He waited.
    “But the second is quick. The truth is that I’m too old to fight.” Abner laughed; Annie jumped and Samuel realized she’d been dozing. “I like a good scrap and I’m too old for this one. So I go back and forth with news. Try to help.”
    “You’re a spy?”
    “No, no, that’s too hard a word. Though I ’spect these redcoats would hang me proper if they knew. I go back and forth with news about things that are happening that some might be interested in hearing about. I sell a little and buy a little and carry a word now and then, and I help them that needs it when I can. I can’t really fight—my bones would break. But if I help those who are against the redcoats, it’s right close to fighting. I can’t stand the redcoats and you don’t like them, either. Is that good enough for you?”
    Samuel nodded, watching the dogs move up the trail and back again. “That’s good enough for me. And thank you for the help.”

Covert Communication
    Both the American and the British military forces disguised their communications so that messages could not be easily read if captured by their enemies. Prearranged letters or words replaced other letters or words, all of which had to be memorized by huge numbers of different people, but the secret codes were frequently and easily broken. Mathematical codes were experimented with, but the complexity limited their effectiveness, especially given the length of time it took to pass messages from one party to another.
    Invisible inks that could be made visible with heat or a series of chemicals, as well as messages hidden in common publications such as pamphlets and almanacs, were common ways to ensure the security of sensitive information.

CHAPTER
15
    T hey were still several days away from the city of New York and an almost constant stream of refugees came at them.
    Some had obviously been soldiers, or fighting men of one kind or another. There were many with wounds, wrapped in crude bandages. Abner stopped the wagon and furnished bandages for those who didn’t have them; he also had a supply of laudanum, a painkiller that was half opium and half alcohol, and he gave some of the more gravely wounded a small bottle. “Take it sparingly,” he said in his deep voice, “best at night before sleeping.” To everyone he said, “Stay off the roads, redcoats are about.”
    Cart after wagon after cart passed them, being pulled by mules or oxen. A goodly number of the people were soldiers, but the vast majority were civilians—often whole families.
    “Where do you suppose they’re all going?” Samuel thought of the devastation on the trail to his rear. It certainly didn’t seem like a safe place. Hessians, soldiers, savages. “Down to Philadelphia?”
    Abner nodded.
    At times