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We’d no choice at all. Not if we intended to keep the British out of our pockets.”
    “Lads! Hurry now. Swab down the decks, see that all is left shipshape! We’ve not come to cause real injury to the captains or the men—the tea has been our business, and that is all. Now hurry!”
    The older men in the crowd had planned the action. The younger ones had carried it out with glee. Many of the boys were college students from Harvard. For some it was a prank, a lark.
    Others saw what the future might bring, but all carried out the work, and to a man, they cleaned the ships when they were done.
    The keys were politely returned to the captains.
    “Away!” someone called. “Our deed is done. Let’s flee! The troops will be out soon enough.”
    “Come then, Jeremy!” Frederick called. They were both oiled and slick, wearing buckskin breeches and vests. Frederick was starting to shiver violently. Out on the water, it was viciously cold.
    “Aye, and hurry, man!” Jeremy said.
    They climbed down to the small boats that would bring them to the dock. “A teapot she is! The harbor is a teapot tonight! She steams, she brews! And what comes, soon, all men will soon see.”
    It was one of their leaders shouting then, passionately, heartfully.
    The British fighting force was estimated to be one of the finest in the world. If it came to war … Frederick thought.
    If they were caught …
    There were so many of them. The entire port of Boston had been with them, except for the British troops and the minority of loyalists.
    The Indians reached dry land again. They were making little secret of their actions, marching to the grand old elm, the Liberty Tree. They would not hang for their deeds this night. The governor could not see that they all hanged! If the king had thought that Boston rebelled before, let him see the people after a heinous act like that!
    “Back home, me lads! And a deed well done!” one of the leaders called.
    Frederick tensed, for he was not done with his night’s work. As the others began to drift away, returning to their homes or heading for their chosen taverns, Frederick stood waiting by the tree.
    Two men soon appeared before him, one another printer, a man named Paul Revere, and one the wealthy and admired John Hancock. Hancock was a cousin of the well-known patriot Samuel Adams, but it was the seizure of his ship
Liberty
by the British that had turned him so intensely toward the cause of the patriots. He was a handsome man, richly dressed in gold brocade and matching breeches. “Have you come by the arms, Frederick?” Hancock asked him.
    Frederick nodded.
    “We still hope it’ll not come to conflict, but the Sons of Liberty must now begin to take precautions,” Revere warned him. Frederick himself had become involved because of Paul Revere. He had begun as an apprentice inthe older man’s employ. Now they were both kept busy printing pamphlets and flyers for the cause of freedom.
    “They come from Virginia, sir. A good friend travels to the western counties and gets French weapons from the Indians there,” Frederick said nervously. This was not like their tea party—this could be construed as high treason. “The wagon is down the street, near the cemetery.”
    “Good work, Frederick. And your Virginian is a good friend, indeed. Go ahead now, and the West County men will follow quietly behind you. If you see a redcoat anywhere, take flight. Sam has said that we’ve had a leak and that the Brit captain Davis knows we’re acquiring arms. Go quickly, and take care.”
    Frederick nodded. He was anxious to return home. He believed passionately in his cause, but he believed, too, in the love he shared with his young wife and in the future he sought for his infant son. He’d tried to explain to Elizabeth that it was for the future that he had come out this night. They were a free people. They had won the right to representation in 1215 when the barons had forced King John of England to sign