The Redcoats are Coming! Read online

  Praise for The Imagination Station® books

  The Imagination Station books are full of adventure, and they also teach me about God.

  —Jesse, age 10, Midlothian, Texas

  So far in our home-schooling journey with boys, The Imagination Station series has, by far, been the books that my boys have wanted to read the most. It’s very exciting to have content that I can trust!

  —Chrystal H., home-school mom, Midlothian, Texas

  The Redcoats Are Coming! will leave [students] riveted to the journey and history in the story. A teacher will be able to stop at any chapter and leave the children waiting for more.

  —Margaret G., teacher aide, Auburn, New York

  The Redcoats Are Coming! will teach kids a lot of valuable lessons about faith such as courage and hope.

  —Irene R., children’s author and editor, Ontario, Canada

  I can’t think of a better way for children to learn about United States history. This book is one not to be missed!

  —Sharon B., public school teacher, Munster, Indiana

  I love that the books are easy to read. I want to keep reading because the books are full of adventure!

  —Kanaan, age 8, Midlothian, Texas

  The Redcoats Are Coming! is a fun and exciting way for young readers to experience the history of our country while learning the importance that faith has played in many of the events. An excellent family-centered series that will engage readers of all ages.

  —Terri F., children’s author, Nashville, Indiana

  A perfect history adventure for Christian School students and home-schoolers.

  —Mona P., elementary volunteer reader, Appleton, Maine

  The Redcoats Are Coming!

  2014 Focus on the Family

  ISBN: 978-1-58997-774-7

  A Focus on the Family book published by Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188.

  Focus on the Family and Adventures in Odyssey, and the accompanying logos and designs, are federally registered trademarks, and The Imagination Station is a federally registered trademark of Focus on the Family, 8605 Explorer Drive, Colorado Springs, CO 80920.

  TYNDALE and Tyndale’s quill logo are registered trademarks of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of Focus on the Family.

  With the exception of known historical figures, all characters are the product of the authors’ imaginations.

  Cover design by Michael Heath | Magnus Creative

  For Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data for this title, visit http://www.loc.gov/help/contact-general.html.

  ISBN 978-1-62405-216-3 (ePub); ISBN 978-1-62405-217-0 (Kindle); ISBN 978-1-62405-215-6 (Apple)

  Build: 2013-11-15 11:45:54

  To Esther,

  For your sweet, gentle smile, your talent in everything creative, and your love of listening to Adventures in Odyssey, just before you fall asleep at night . . . this book is for you!

  —NIS

  Contents

  Chapter 1: Vacation Plans

  Chapter 2: A Mysterious Letter

  Chapter 3: Secret Code

  Chapter 4: Dangerous Spies

  Chapter 5: The Proclamation

  Chapter 6: Strangers

  Chapter 7: In the Corncrib

  Chapter 8: Alone in the Dark

  Chapter 9: Emergency!

  Chapter 10: The Search

  Chapter 11: Bony Fingers

  Chapter 12: Oh, Rats!

  Chapter 13: Willing to Die

  Chapter 14: A Dangerous Ride

  Chapter 15: War!

  Secret Word Puzzle

  About the Authors and Illustrator

  Vacation Plans

  Beth raced down the sidewalk toward Whit’s End. Her footsteps pounded on the sidewalk. Patrick jogged behind her.

  It was a hot summer day. Beads of sweat dripped down the back of Beth’s neck.

  All of a sudden Patrick raced past Beth. He reached the door to Whit’s End first and pushed it open.

  Beth was annoyed as she heard the bell on the door jingle. She wanted to be the first to tell Whit the news. She followed Patrick inside.

  Whit stood at the cash register behind the counter. He handed some change to a customer. Then he pushed the drawer of the cash register closed.

  Patrick stopped in front of the counter. He grabbed the edge with both hands. “Guess what?” he said to Whit. “Grandma is taking us on a trip—”

  “To Boston!” Beth said before Patrick could finish. She saw a flash of irritation cross Patrick’s face.

  Beth moved to the counter next to her cousin.

  Whit looked from Beth to Patrick. “Summer vacation plans?” he asked.

  “Yes!” Beth said. The words tumbled out. “Grandma has been planning a surprise—”

  “And my mom just told me today,” Patrick said. “Grandma bought plane tickets—”

  “And we get to leave tomorrow,” Beth said. “So we have to pack right away.”

  Beth grinned at Patrick, and Patrick grinned back. Beth didn’t feel annoyed anymore. Now she just felt excited.

  “Why is Boston so special?” Whit asked.

  “Boston is where the American Revolution started,” Beth said. “We learned about it in school. Grandma wants us to see the places we learned about.”

  “That should make it all come alive,” Whit said. “I have a Bible from the Revolutionary War. It’s been in my family for generations.”

  “Cool!” Patrick said. “I’ll bet it’s worth a lot of money.”

  “Maybe,” Whit said. “Though I’d never sell it.”

  “May we see it?” Beth asked.

  “Of course,” Whit said. Then he paused and rubbed his chin. “If I can remember where I put it.”

  “You don’t know where it is?” Patrick asked. “How could you lose something as important as that?”

  “I haven’t lost it,” Whit said. “I cleaned out my attic and moved a lot of things around. I think it’s in a box . . .” Whit snapped his fingers. “I remember where it is. Follow me!”

  The cousins followed Whit down the stairs. The stairway led to his basement workshop.

  They walked over to one of the workbenches. It was covered with screws and nails. Beth saw hammers and wrenches and what looked like electronic parts.

  Whit reached under the workbench. He grabbed the handle of a wooden chest. It reminded Beth of a pirate’s treasure chest.

  “Umph!” said Whit. The wooden chest moved slightly. Whit pulled harder. The chest slid out from under the bench. “There.”

  He stood up and searched the top of the workbench. He smiled and grabbed a key. It was lying next to an old radio tube. He knelt down and put the key in the chest’s lock. Click.

  A Mysterious Letter

  Whit opened the lid of the chest and reached inside. He lifted up a smaller, dusty box. He blew on the top of the box.

  The cloud of dust made Beth sneeze.

  “Sorry,” Whit said as he lifted the lid of the smaller box. He carefully pulled out a large book. It had gold lettering on the spine. It was a Bible.

  Beth saw how yellow and old the pages looked.

  Whit set the Bible down on the table. He gently turned the pages.

  Patrick gave a low whistle. “So they used this Bible during the American Revolution,” he said. “It’s over two hundred years old!”

  Beth looked at the large book. “I guess it wasn’t a pocket edition,” she said.

 
Whit chuckled. “Only if they had extremely large pockets,” he said. He turned to the Psalms.

  An old yellow envelope slid out from the pages. It landed facedown on the table.

  Beth saw a brown blob on the flap of the envelope. She thought the blob looked like a circle of melted crayon. It was cracked with age.

  Whit looked puzzled. Then he picked up the envelope and turned it over. There was curly writing on the front of it. “I’d forgotten about this,” Whit said.

  “What is it?” asked Patrick.

  Whit held up the envelope.

  Beth gasped. The front of the envelope was addressed to Paul Revere.

  Patrick’s eyes went wide. “Paul Revere?” Patrick said. “Why do you have a letter to Paul Revere?”

  “Who is it from?” Beth asked.

  “It doesn’t look opened,” Patrick said. “Have you read it?”

  Whit said, “Well—”

  “What does it—” Patrick said.

  “Don’t interrupt him,” Beth said.

  “You did it too!” Patrick said.

  “All right, you two,” Whit said with a smile. “I know you’re excited, but there’s no need to argue.”

  “Please tell us the story of the letter,” Beth said.

  Patrick stepped closer. His eyes sparkled with anticipation.

  Whit looked at the cousins. “I could tell you the story. But maybe you should experience it.”

  Beth clapped her hands. She knew what Whit was talking about. They were going on another adventure in the Imagination Station.

  The machine was one of Whit’s inventions. It was like a time machine. Whit used it to help history come to life.

  The three of them turned to the Imagination Station. It sat off to the side of the room. The machine looked like the front part of a helicopter. The doors stood open.

  Whit handed the letter to Patrick. “You can deliver the letter to Paul Revere personally,” Whit said.

  Beth felt disappointed. Why did Patrick get to take the letter? she wondered.

  Whit nodded to Beth. He seemed to understand what she was thinking. He leaned over and dug around in the wooden chest. He pulled out a white apron and handed it to Beth.

  “An apron?” she asked. The apron had two strings at the top. The strings were for tying around her waist. A white ruffle went all around the apron’s bottom edge. In the front were two big pockets.

  “Will I be cooking?” she asked.

  “You’ll see,” Whit said.

  Whit went to the side of the workbench. He drew a long stick from an old umbrella stand. He held it out to Patrick. “You better take this,” he said.

  “What’s it for?” Patrick asked as he took the stick.

  “It’s a cane,” Whit said. “Always keep it with you. You’ll need it.”

  Beth watched as Patrick took the cane. He held it in his left hand. He still held Paul Revere’s letter in the other.

  Whit gestured toward the Imagination Station. The cousins climbed in and sat down on the cushy seats.

  Whit moved to the control panel on the side of the machine. He pushed several keys. The Imagination Station started to hum. Lights flashed on and off.

  “Have a nice trip,” Whit said. “And don’t forget. Ask for ink if someone offers you a quill.”

  “What does that mean?” Beth asked.

  But the doors to the Imagination Station slid closed. Whit didn’t hear her.

  Beth looked at Patrick. He shrugged and said, “I guess we’ll find out.”

  Beth reached to push the red button.

  The Imagination Station shuddered and shook. It rumbled. Then it rattled and whirred.

  Beth felt strange. It was like being sucked into a giant vacuum. Then suddenly, everything went black.

  Secret Code

  Patrick shook his head. Then he opened his eyes.

  The cousins were standing next to a fancy, large white building. It had four white columns standing on the front porch. Horse-drawn carriages were parked in front of it. Nearby, more horses were tied to posts.

  A gust of wind blew past them. It picked up dust from the dirt road. Patrick also could smell the freshness of spring blossoms.

  The Imagination Station slowly faded away and disappeared.

  Patrick lifted his hand against the blowing dust. His eyes went to a steeple rising above the porch. A large bell hung in the steeple. The metal bell gleamed in the sun.

  His hand brushed something on his head. It was a hat. He took it off. It was shaped like a triangle. “That’s funny,” he said.

  “Look at your clothes,” Beth said.

  Patrick looked down. He wore a blue coat with a double row of shiny buttons. His tan pants looked like long shorts. They reached down just below his knees. Tall stockings and leather shoes with brass buckles completed his outfit. He tapped the side of his shoes with the cane.

  “I feel like a proper gentleman,” Patrick said.

  Beth wore a long red dress that reached to the ground. It had white ruffles around the sleeves. A white collar was tied around her neck. She held her white apron in her hands.

  “Should I put the apron on now?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” Patrick said. He held up the letter to Paul Revere. It looked brand new.

  Suddenly, hoofbeats sounded behind them.

  Patrick turned around.

  A girl rode up on a brown pony. The pony had a brown saddle. A saddlebag hung down on each side of the pony’s back. Patrick thought they looked like big brown pockets.

  The girl stopped her pony near Patrick and Beth. She gathered her long skirts in her hand. Then she slid off the pony.

  The new girl had long, blonde hair in a braid. She was about Beth’s height. Her long tan dress and white apron looked homemade like Beth’s.

  But the girl’s face looked older than Beth’s. Patrick guessed she was a teenager.

  The girl tied her pony to a post. Then she walked up to them and curtsied. “My name is Sybil,” she said.

  Patrick took a small bow. “I’m Patrick,” he said. “And this is my cousin Beth.”

  Beth gave a little curtsy too.

  Sybil reached into the pocket of her apron. She held out a white feather to them. “Would you be in need of a fresh quill?”

  Patrick glanced over at Beth. He remembered what Whit had said. “Yes,” he said. “And ink as well, please.”

  Sybil nodded. She put the feather back in her apron pocket. “You both are Patriots then. Are you lookouts?”

  “We just got here,” Beth said.

  “We’re looking for Paul Revere,” Patrick said. He held out his letter. “We have a letter for him,” he added.

  “Paul Revere’s in Boston,” Sybil said. “Indeed, I’m sure of it.”

  Patrick had no idea where they were. “Is that far?” he asked.

  “You wouldn’t want to walk there. It’s at least seventeen miles from Concord,” Sybil said. “You may ride with me to Lexington. After that you can follow the road to Boston.”

  “Thank you,” Beth said.

  “In the meantime, will you help with the cause of freedom?” Sybil asked.

  “The cause of freedom?” Beth asked and then looked at Patrick.

  “Sure,” Patrick said. “If it’s for freedom, we’ll help.”

  Beth said, “What can we do?”

  “Let me see your apron,” Sybil said.

  Beth handed her apron to the girl.

  Sybil studied it closely. “Good,” she said. “The pockets have extra stitching. It will hold the musket balls well enough.”

  She handed the apron back to Beth. “Tie on your apron and follow me,” she said. Then she looked around and lowered her voice. “We’re going inside the church. You can both help me collect musket balls today.”

  “Musket balls?” Beth asked quietly.

  “Of course,” Sybil said. “All the colonists are melting down their pewter. They’re making musket balls. We’re collecting the ball
s along with other ammunition.”

  “What does the British army think of that?” Patrick asked.

  “It’s not for them to know,” Sybil said sharply. “We’re keeping it all well hidden.”

  Patrick nodded.

  Sybil moved toward the white building. The cousins followed. At the door she said softly, “Be careful inside the building. There are spies everywhere.”

  “How will we know who is a spy and who isn’t?” Beth asked.

  Sybil smiled and then said, “Here’s what you must do.”

  Dangerous Spies

  “The provincial congress is gathered inside. The men are seated at tables,” Sybil said. She took quills from her apron pocket. “First, ask each man if he wants a new quill.”

  “Quills,” Beth said as she took the feathered pens.

  “If the man says yes, hand him a quill,” Sybil said. “Then move to the next man.”

  “I get it,” Patrick said. “If the first man says yes, then he’s a Loyalist.”

  “A Loyalist?” Beth asked. “Is that someone who is loyal to the king of England?”

  “Right,” Sybil said. “Whereas a Patriot will reply, ‘Yes, and ink as well.’”

  “A secret code,” Patrick said.

  “That’s right!” Sybil said. “A Patriot will answer with the secret code. Then you must say, ‘The ink will be ready in a minute.’ Then hand him a new quill. He will quickly hand you musket balls. Put them in your pockets.”

  Beth was worried. She hoped she wouldn’t get it confused.

  Patrick said, “I can hide musket balls in my pockets.” He opened his coat. There was a small pocket in the lining. He tucked Paul Revere’s letter in it.

  Sybil gave him several white quills. He held them in his fist.

  “We’ll bring the musket balls out here when we’re done,” Sybil said. “Then we’ll put them in my saddlebags. We’ll take them to my uncle. He’ll hide them on his property. He’s run out of room under his pulpit.”

  “Under his pulpit?” Beth asked.