Out in the pond and down close to the shore on both sides of the cove he could hear strange little splashes, and in the thickets behind him a pair of owls were calling every now and then. If it had not been for thoughts of Aunt Martha, Don might really have enjoyed his experience. He did not doubt that he should be able to walk in the morning, and he rather liked being out alone as Glen Drake had been many, many times. Once he dozed off and awoke some time later, feeling cold and hungry. The twigs were tapping all about him; somewhere far to the south a hound was baying mournfully; and in front of him the moon had covered the pond with a silvery sheen. Again Don dozed off, and then awoke with a violent start. Somebody--or something--was moving about in the underbrush on the slope above him. Then a stone rattled down and bounded into the water. Startled at the loud splash it made, Don gave an involuntary exclamation. An instant later he heard someone call his name. “O Don!” the call was repeated. Don sat up. “Who is it?” he shouted in reply. “Yer safe and sound? Praise be for that!” “Glen!” cried Don, pulling himself upward. In a moment the old trapper was at the foot of the slope, and Don was explaining the accident that had befallen him. “Well, yer a plucky lad,” said Glen. “I tracked ye all the way from Concord, and when I found you was headin’ fer Fresh Pond I began to have my fears. Here, now, let me take ye on my back, and we’ll talk as we go along.” Don was a sturdy boy and unusually solid for his age, but Glen Drake lifted him to his back as if he had been no more than a child; Don could feel the muscles in the old trapper’s shoulders play up and down as Glen climbed the slope easily and walked quite as well as if it had been daylight. “What happened to the Redcoats, Glen?” asked Don. “They got licked,” Glen replied promptly. “They ran most all the way from Lexin’ton, and some of ’em fell and lay still with their tongues a-hanging out; they were that tired. They lost a lot of men, Don, and serves ’em right. Our boys kept a-coming from all directions--and most of ’em know how to shoot too! I tell you, if a second force of the King’s men hadn’t come out, not one of the Redcoats that tried to burn Concord would have got back alive. Now they’re sewed up tight in Boston; we’ve got an army watchin’ the town, and it’s growing every minute.” “How’s Aunt Martha, and how am I ever going to get back to her?” “Your Aunt Martha is all right--at least, she was the last I saw her. As to how you’re a-goin’ to get back, I can’t say for certain. But I’ll get you back somehow; you trust me for that.” “Where’s Uncle David?” “He’s at Cambridge with the army. I’m sort of with the army myself, though I don’t guess I’ll ever do much drillin’.” Glen Drake chuckled. “Morning’s a-coming, Don; morning’s a-coming, and we’re at war!” Don thought of his Aunt Martha, alone in Pudding Lane.