We Minute Boys, after having cared for the horses, threw ourselves down on the ground in a group, as was our custom, each fellow looking gloomy and disappointed. No one seemed disposed to start a conversation, and all remained silent while around us the men were making merry over this last victory, which was counted to be greater than any other, because we had met the redcoats in fair fight when they, not we, were the attacking party. It was while we were lying there in apparent despondency that an elderly man, by the name of Paul Sawyer, who could ride a horse with firmer seat, and fire a musket with truer aim than many of the younger men, came up, looking at us for a moment in surprise, after which he said with a laugh, as if he saw in us something comical: “Is this a party of mutes getting ready for a funeral?” No one made reply, and after surveying us again for what seemed to me a long while, he asked cheerily: “Why are you lads so down in the dumps? Is it possible that the escape of Seth Hastings, disquieting though it may be, can cover your faces with gloom when you should be joining yonder men who have given themselves over to rejoicing?” “Those who are making merry have a right to do so, for they have done good work this day,” Gabriel replied moodily. “We are ready to give them all praise, but at the same time it is not in the hearts of lads, or men for that matter, to be cheery under disappointment like ours, for we may ride many a day without having another such opportunity.” “What mean you, lad?” Master Sawyer asked in perplexity. “What opportunity have the others had that you did not share?” “That of showing what we might do in such an engagement as has just passed,” Gabriel replied. “After it was known we were to stand for the first time face to face with the redcoats, we believed the moment had come when we might show to our elders that we were worthy to march with them.” “Well, have you not shown it, lad?” “How could we, sir? Our place in line was where we had every reason to expect hot work, and yet the men on our left bore all the brunt. We simply remained there, not being allowed to take part in the chase, and at a time when we might have struck a blow, were set to doing sentry duty.” “So you think the Minute Boys have not had a chance to prove whether it be in them to make soldiers, eh?” Master Sawyer said with a quizzical expression on his face, and having thus spoken, he wheeled sharply around, walking straight toward Master Davis’s dwelling. Archie Gordon said, as the old man strode away with a bearing of strength and agility that a younger might have envied: “If I could ride as he does, and keep from my face all show of fear as he is able to do, then would I force the members of this ‘ragged regiment’ to call me comrade!”