At that the refugee ceased struggling. He allowed himself to remain limply in Andy's grasp, but he fixed an earnest, pleading look on Phil. "Do you believe that?" he inquired. "But of course you do, for you called me a Tory yourself a little while ago." "Don't I have reason to?" asked Phil bluntly. "I saw you in Boston working for the British soldiers." "Yes, you did," admitted the captive. "Then, how can you explain?" The boy cast his eyes down, but it was quite apparent, not in shame. He seemed thinking. Then with an uneasy start he glanced all around the place and acted as if he would run for it on the slightest provocation. Thinking better of it, he faced Phil in a frank, manly fashion. "See here," he said, "you are doing wrong in keeping me here--more wrong than you dream of. You shouldn't make me tell you what you really have no business to know, but, if you are true blue, and I know you must be, I'll tell you something. Let go of my arms--I won't run. Now then, if I prove to you that I am not a Tory, do I go free?" "Yes," said Andy promptly, and Phil gave a nod of assent. "All right," said the refugee, as Andy freed his arms. He groped one hand inside of his jacket and beyond it. He drew out an oilskin package, opened it, and took from it a folded sheet of paper. "Read it," he said, almost solemnly, "and when you have read--forget." Andy stared eagerly at the open sheet of paper displayed. Phil, more puzzled and curious than ever, ran his eyes over the open page. It read: Boston, March, 1775. All loyal colonists will give this young man, my authorized messenger, on duty, all the assistance possible. "Great guns!" vociferated Andy, and Phil drew back, gazing at the refugee now with a look of admiration and respect. For the passport,--or whatever it might be called, but at all events official and convincing,--bore a signature that was the watchword of obedience and fidelity for every member of the Musket Boys of Old Boston, wherever he might be. The paper was signed: "JOSEPH WARREN." CHAPTER V A GREAT NAME "Joseph Warren!" That was a great name in those days. It was no wonder that the sight of it impressed Phil and Andy. With a sort of awe they read it, and their interest in the homeless, hunted lad who showed it to them increased greatly. Phil Warrington knew Dr. Warren. With a thrilling kind of pride he recalled an encouraging word from the popular patriot one day, when he and his comrades were drilling on a vacant city lot in Boston. Phil felt that he was getting quite an experience as a young revolutionary patriot. He recalled how Gen. Gage had listened patiently to the complaints of the serious, manly little delegation--how he had said quite earnestly to a brother officer at his side: "These sturdy young fellows show the mettle of their rugged sires--if there is ever any serious trouble these people mean to fight it out."