“Tell her that I am very sorry she has gone to any trouble on my account, but that I cannot with a clear conscience visit with her at this time. Say also that when your uncle promised for me he had not consulted me and therefore did not know all the facts.” “She’ll want to know the facts,” said Don, grinning. “I’m kind of curious myself, Aunt Martha.” “Donald!” But Don’s grin was irresistible, and his aunt smiled. “Never mind,” she said. “And you’ll hurry home, won’t you?” “I surely will, Aunt Martha.” The next morning, the sixteenth of April, Don set out with Harry Henderson, a raw-boned young fellow with red hair and a short growth of red stubble on his face. The soldiers had just finished standing parade on the Common when Don and Harry rattled by in the cart; Harry’s light blue eyes narrowed as he watched them moving in little groups to their barracks. “Good morning to you, young sir,” said a cheerful voice. Don, looking up, saw Harry Hawkins. “Good morning to you, sir,” he replied. Harry Henderson looked at his companion narrowly. “Friend of yours?” he asked. “Well, no, not exactly,” replied the boy. “Friend of your uncle’s maybe?” Harry was grinning impudently now, and Don’s cheeks were red. “No; here’s how it is----” And Don gave a brief account of how he had happened to meet the Redcoat. “Well,” said Harry dryly, “I should think he might say good morning to you.” They passed the Common and finally turned into Orange Street and, after some delay, drove past the fortifications on the Neck. “Clear of ’em b’gosh!” said Harry, cracking his whip. “We’ll reach Lexin’ton by mid-afternoon if old Dan here doesn’t bust a leg.” But Harry had not reckoned on horseshoes. Shortly before they reached Medford, old Dan lost a shoe, and the circumstance caused a delay of two hours. Then later Dan shied at a barking dog and snapped one of the shafts. As a result Harry and Don did not reach Lexington until almost ten o’clock. “You’ve got to stay right here with me,” said Harry, “It’s too late for you to reach Concord. I know your cousin, and she wouldn’t be at all pleased to have you wake her at midnight--not she!” He laughed. So Don remained at Lexington overnight and the next morning set out on foot for Concord. He reached his cousin’s house just before noon. Cousin Deborah was a tall strong-looking woman with black hair, black eyes and a nose that was overly large. She had once been a school teacher and, as David Hollis used to say, had never lost the look. “Where’s your Aunt Martha?” were her first words to Don. “She decided she couldn’t come.” “But Uncle David told me----”