As soon as they arrived and Phil reported to the general, a company of militia was dispatched to bring in the remainder of the plunder. The camp rang with the exploit, and the army had a royal feast for many days to come. CHAPTER XXXIII CONCLUSION Into the continental camp a lone juvenile figure had come speeding down the river bank on a mettled steed. It was Burt Noble. He had slipped out of Boston at daybreak. Once across the river, he had made for a friendly farmhouse. Now he rushed up to headquarters, flushed and panting. The young patriot spy was not five minutes in confidential consultation with the commanding general. As he emerged from his presence it was to break into a run, after asking some quick questions from a sentry. He burst into the main tent of the Musket Boys, aglow with delight and excitement. "Well, if here isn't Burt Noble!" shouted Ralph. "Great news, grand news!" cried Burt, making for Phil to shake his hand boisterously. "I've left Boston just in time, they had got suspicious." "You said 'great news'?" intimated the curious Ralph. "Yes, it's no secret, or won't be, soon. Ah, it's out now! Hear that?" Outside, from the direction of headquarters, there echoed a wild, glorious babble of human shouts, a chorus of trumpets. "What is it, Burt?" asked Phil. "Boston. The British are evacuating the city!" "Hurrah!" Such a shout went up from the throats of the assembled Musket Boys, that it seemed to fairly lift the cover of the tent. They broke loose then like mad schoolboys on a frolic. They lifted Phil on their shoulders, and carried him outside in triumph. They took up Burt next, and, bearing him to the tent of Andy's company, filled the air with their fervid exultation. Like wildfire the news spread through the camp. Then courier after courier began to arrive from Boston, for the British ships were sailing out into the bay, and the long blockade was ended. Phil looked back in vivid memory over the weary months of waiting and watching since Bunker Hill. There had been skirmishes, noble acts of heroism where the volunteers had stolen a march on the enemy and had secured supplies for the suffering, ill-fed soldiers of General Washington. Ralph had been one of the party who had sailed a schooner down the coast clear to New Jersey, and had captured a rival vessel loaded with powder. Then Dorchester Heights, other battles further from Boston, and then Howe had superseded Gage, and now--victory! triumph! The royal fleet was sailing for Halifax, leaving the gallant patriots masters once more of their dear home city. It was not until the next morning that a portion of the army, consisting principally of volunteers from the city, entered Boston. Their reception was a glad one in public. At homes everywhere supreme joy reigned over the return of a father or a brother.