“May it please the general, we were in a good-natured dispute touching the matter of those ten cow-horns which the butcher brought amongst us to his peril. There are more muskets than pouches in our street, and we are debating a fair way to divide them. It is--it is exceedingly bold, sir, but dare we ask you to suggest a way out of the trouble which preys sorely on the butcher’s mind and body?” A fleeting frown troubled the noble face of the chief, and his mouth twitched, not with anger but in pain, for the incident brought home to him anew that his soldiers, these brave, cheerful, half-clothed, freezing followers, were without even the simplest tools of warfare. The cloud cleared and he smiled, such a proud, affectionate smile as a father shows to sons of his who have deemed no sacrifice too great for duty’s sake. His eyes softened as he looked down at the straight stripling at his bridle-rein, and replied: “You have asked my advice as a third party, and it is meet that I share in the distribution. Follow me to the nearest hut.” His officers wheeled and rode after him, while the bewildered soldiers trailed behind, two and two, down the narrow road, greatly wondering whether reward or punishment was to be their lot. As for Jabez Rockwell, he strode proudly in the van as guide to the log cabin, and felt his heart flutter as he jumped to the head of the charger, while the general dismounted with the agility of a boy. Turning to the soldiers, who hung abashed in the road, Washington called: “Come in, as many of you as can find room!” The company filled the hut, and made room for those behind by climbing into the tiers of bunks filled with boughs to soften the rough-hewn planks. In one corner a wood-fire smoldered in a rough stone fireplace, whose smoke made even the general cough and sneeze. He stood behind a bench of barked logs, and took from his pocket a folded document. Then he picked up from the hearth a bit of charcoal, and announced: “I will write down a number between fifteen hundred and two thousand, and the ten that guess nearest this number shall be declared the winners of the ten horns.” He carefully tore the document into strips, and then into small squares, which were passed among the delighted audience. There was a busy whispering and scratching of heads. Over in one corner, jammed against the wall until he gasped for breath, Jabez Rockwell said to himself: “I must guess shrewdly. Methinks he will choose a number halfway between fifteen hundred and two thousand. I will write down seventeen hundred and fifty. But, stay! Seventeen seventy-six may come first into his mind, the glorious year when the independence of the colonies was declared. But he will surely take it that we, too, are thinking of that number, wherefore I will pass it by.” As if reading his thoughts, a comrade curled up in a bunk at Rockwell’s elbow muttered: “Seventeen seventy-six, I haven’t a doubt of it!”