Washington’s first step after entering Boston was to make stronger its defences, and among the men appointed to assist in the task, was the regiment in which both the boys served. Jack was well pleased at the idea of not being sent far from all that had meant home to him, but Robert had but one desire left—he must find Morley! Mason’s dying words rang in his ears day and night, and the strange resemblance meant a mystery he must fathom. After that?—well nothing mattered after that. “But I say,” Jack pleaded, “after all I went through to find you, it’s a burning shame for you to go away.” “If I live, Jack, I’ll soon be back. I’m sure to find Morley and then—there will be nothing left but for me to come back.” “Suppose you should get hurt again? You need me.” “I have thought of that,” Robert’s face grew serious, “I think of that all the time, old fellow, and there is only one way. If I am hurt a _little_, I can bear it—alone—if it means a big thing—I have this!” And Shirtliffe drew out a pistol he had recently gotten. “You dare not!” cried Jack in startled tones, “if you talk like that I’ll—I’ll tell!” “No you won’t, you’ll stand by me to the end, even if I am far away. I won’t do anything foolish, but I’m going to find that boy, I’ve got to, Jack. His life and mine is all confused, and I’m going to try and find out. It may help Debby Mason, you know. I’d rather like to help Debby;” a quick smile lit up the boy’s earnest face, “the folks in Plymouth town did not think much of Debby, but I’d like to save her from—Mrs. Lane, and give her one more chance. Shake hands, old friend, when I come back we’ll go and find Debby Mason together.” Silently Jack gave his hand, and the two parted. CHAPTER VII. A STRANGE CHRISTMAS.