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Updated: June 16, 2025
"See here, Tip, you scoundrel," muttered Fred, hoarsely, a worried look showing in his eyes, "I'm getting plumb down to the bottom of anything I can get for you." "I told ye to bring twenty," retorted young Scammon, abruptly. "That will be enough." "I couldn't get it," muttered Fred. "Now, see here, pal," warned Tip, threateningly, "don't try to pull no roots on me.
Tip only grinned. "What did you mean, fellow?" Ripley insisted angrily. "I meant to get ye here, to let ye know what I had to say to ye," Scammon retorted. "Why, confound you, fellow " Fred began, stuttering a bit, but the other cut in on him in short fashion. "None o' that to me, now, Fred Ripley. D'ye hear? Me an' you used to be pretty good pals, once on a time."
Dunham succeeded in rallying a portion of the brigade later in the day, but too late to enter the engagement. Taking advantage of the bridges near the stream, Scammon kept his men covered from the artillery fire as well as possible, driving back with his volleys every effort to pass by the bridge or to ford the stream in his front.
I organized two small brigades and two batteries of artillery for the movement to Washington. Colonels Scammon and Moor, who were my senior colonels, were already in command of brigades, and Colonel Lightburn was in command of the lower valley. The arrangement already existing practically controlled.
Our men behaved beautifully, holding every tree and rock, delaying the enemy for more than three hours from reaching the crests of the hills looking down upon the town. I had sent orderlies to stop and turn back our wagon trains on the way from Flat-top, and had directed headquarters baggage and the few stores in Princeton to be loaded and sent on the road toward Moor and Scammon.
Scammon, however, knew one person in Gridley whom he thought he could terrorize. He started in promptly to do it. At three the next afternoon young Scammon loitered under a big, bare oak on one of the winding, little-traveled streets that led from Gridley out into the open country beyond.
"Lemme go, or it'll be worse for ye!" threatened a harsh voice that, nevertheless, had a whine in it. "What use to let you go, Tip Scammon?" demanded Darrin. "We know you, and the police would pick you up again in an hour." "Lemme go, and keep yer mouth shut," whined the fellow. "If ye don't, ye'll be sorry. If ye do lemme go, I'll pay ye for the accommodation." "Yes," retorted Dave, scornfully.
Incense was sweet to the boy to whom it had so long been denied, but of course it turned "Rip's" head. Eleven o'clock pealed out from the steeple of the nearest church. The night was dark. Rain or snow was in the air. In a shadow across the street hung Tip Scammon. His shabby cap was pulled down over his eyes, his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his ragged reefer.
Her father is as unfair to his friends as to his enemies, but to neither of them so merciless as to Ruth. Although he knows that she loves Master Scammon in spite of his desertion and would rather die than wed another, he has promised her to Mogg Megone, the chief who rules the Indians at the Saco mouth.
They were ordered to hold fast till morning, and if the enemy still appeared to be mainly at Princeton, to march in that direction and attack them from the rear. Scammon was ordered to send half a regiment to occupy Moor's position at French's during the night, and to march his whole command at daybreak toward Princeton.
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