Dusk had fallen over the town when Don and Jud, warmly clad in heavy coats and mufflers, made their way toward Faneuil Hall. Others were walking in the same direction--mostly officers, who stepped with the firmness and confidence that marked an officer of the King. The night was cold and dark, and few lights gleamed as they once had gleamed, cheerily, in the windows of the shops along King Street and Merchant’s Row; yet there was cheery conversation. The boys could hear laughing and congenial talking among the hurrying throngs. “I just feel like laughing good and hard to-night,” they heard one man say. “Yes, and I too,” another agreed. “There’s been little enough to laugh at ever since we landed in this town.” “Well, you’ll laugh to-night, or I’m a Dutchman,” said a third. “There’s to be a farce called the Blockade of Boston. Funny! I thought I’d laugh myself sick the first time I heard it rehearsed. I tell you the officers who wrote it--let’s see; who was it now? Well, never mind; they certainly wrote a funny play. Just wait till you catch sight of General Washington!” Jud scowled in the darkness. “Remember, Don,” he whispered, “we’ll have to keep a firm hold on our tempers.” Don laughed. “I’ll keep a firm hold of mine, Jud; but I’m not so sure about you. You’re hot-headed, you know.” “Don’t worry about me,” said Jud. “He who laughs last, you know----” “But say,” Don interrupted him, “you haven’t told me yet how we’re going to get inside the place.” “That’s so,” replied Jud and thrust his elbow knowingly into his companion’s ribs. “This will get us inside, I think,” and he drew something small and shiny from his pocket and handed it to Don. “A silver snuff-box,” said Don, looking at it with some wonder. “Yes; it’s Sergeant-Major Bluster’s. He couldn’t seem to find it to-day. Funny, too, ’cause if he’d asked me, I could have told him right where it was all the time--in my pocket. Do you understand now?” Don did not understand and said so emphatically. Jud laughed good-naturedly. “You’re pretty dull sometimes,” he said frankly. “Just you let me do the talking and we’ll be inside Faneuil Hall in three shakes.” “You’ve been doing most of the talking.” Don could not resist the thrust. “So go ahead and finish.” “All right; now here we are.” The boys had reached the hall, which was well lighted and partly filled with troops. Don and Jud stood to one side of the door and watched the men as they came singly and in groups and vanished inside the great building. There were ladies too, most of them young, and all escorted by gallant officers. Jud kept a sharp lookout toward the door. At last Don, a bit impatient at the delay, asked, “How much longer are we going to wait?” “Just a few minutes, I think. I’m waiting for fat Bluster--ah, here he comes, isn’t it?” “You’re right,” said Don. “Look at the gait, will you?” Bluster strode pompously to the door, nodded curtly to one of the soldiers who was on duty there and passed into the hall.