Paul let go of Nate and stepped back. His smile had fallen away. Now his expression was almost angry, like Nate had hurt him somehow.

“I sent you at least ten letters!” Paul said. “I rode in a wagon for two days to get to your uncle’s house. And when I got there, he told me you wouldn’t see me. He slammed the door right in my face!”

Nate stood there in shock.

Storch was a lying, evil rat! He’d made Nate believe that his only old friend in the world had forgotten about him!

Tears burned Nate’s eyes.

“I didn’t know,” he said, barely choking out the words.

Paul looked surprised at first. But his eyes drifted down to Nate’s neck, which still hurt from Storch’s strangling attack.

Paul’s face turned white.

“Where did you get those bruises?” he said softly. “Did he …”

Nate hadn’t seen himself in a mirror. But from Paul’s horrified expression, Nate realized he must look worse than he imagined. Those angry bruises told Paul everything he needed to know about life with Storch.

“Good Lord, Nate,” Paul whispered. “If I had known …”

Nate looked away so Paul wouldn’t see his tears. But Paul was crying, too. And anyway, Nate wasn’t crying about Storch — he wouldn’t waste a tear on that snake-hearted beast. Nate was crying because he’d let himself lose faith in Paul.

Neither cried for long. Paul put his hands on Nate’s shoulders. He leaned close.

“Well,” he said. “We found each other, didn’t we?”

They sat down in a shady spot near the tents. Paul peeled off his ugly green hat and placed it carefully on the ground.

“My lucky charm,” he said.

Nate tried not to stare at Paul, but he kept thinking of the devilish teenager who’d clowned around on Papa’s ships. He’d sneak vinegar into the men’s canteens. He’d taught the ship’s parrot to cuss in French. Nobody drove Papa and his men crazier — or made them laugh harder.

But now Paul’s eyes looked serious and thoughtful. He listened closely as Nate told him about Storch, and how Eliza and Theo had become like family to him. He explained how he’d fled from Storch and had hoped to find a job on a ship.

Paul shook his head. “Hardly any ships coming or going from New York City these days. The British attack is coming any day.”

British warships had been streaming into the harbor all month, Paul said. Each one was packed tight with Redcoats. There were hundreds of ships here already, and tens of thousands of soldiers. The ships were anchored about eight miles from here, off Staten Island.

“Those two warships today gave us just a little hint of what’s to come,” Paul said. “They just wanted to give us a little scare, and catch us by surprise. Next time we’ll be ready.”

Paul told Nate that he’d been in the army for more than eighteen months, and stationed here in New York City since May. Before that he’d been living on his family’s farm in northern Connecticut.

“I figured you’d gone back to sea,” Nate said.

Paul shook his head, and a shadow passed across Paul’s face. “I couldn’t even look at the ocean. Not after …”

Nate finished the sentence in his mind.

After we lost Papa.

He and Nate were quiet for moment.

And then Paul went on. He told Nate about his life on the farm, how he’d loved being with his parents but had nearly gone crazy with boredom.

“The chickens never laughed at my jokes,” he said.

Paul wanted an adventure. He thought about heading out west, to the wilds of Ohio.

But then, in April of 1775, everything changed.

That was when the first battle broke out between British and American troops, in and around the Massachusetts towns of Lexington and Concord.

The Revolutionary War had begun. Within a week, Paul had joined the fight.

“I had no idea what it meant to be a soldier,” Paul said. “The first time I fired a musket, I almost blew my hand off.”

He held out his thumb. It looked like the tip had been gnawed off by a barracuda.

Paul chuckled.

“But I had to learn pretty quick,” Paul said, serious again. That’s because just about seven weeks later, he found himself in the bloody Battle of Bunker Hill.

“I almost didn’t make it out of that one alive,” he said quietly.

And then Paul told Nate the story of how he almost died on a hill outside of Boston.