Phil thought he had never been so delightfully comfortable, as when a few minutes later he and Andy occupied two old-fashioned armchairs in front of a blazing kitchen fireplace big enough to hold a couple of cords of wood. Meantime Ralph hustled about the room, pulling out a table, diving into a pantry and placing on the hob a coffee pot. "Don't seem to be a bit curious," said Andy, in an undertone to Phil. "Oh, he is dying to know all about our story," answered Phil, "only I guess a look at us tells him we have just gone through some tough adventure, and he is thinking of our comfort first and foremost. You see, Andy, Ralph is a fellow of experience. He was on a trading vessel for two years. He's been twice to Europe and once clear to China. It would make the hair rise on your head to hear of some of his thrilling escapes. I reckon he's been so used to have sailors come into the galley on board ship to eat and rest when working in some terrific storm, that he can't break the habit of filling up a fellow and getting him nice and cozy before he sits down to chat." Soon, however, they were chatting like three magpies. Ralph was a capital cook. In a jiffy he had a royal spread, consisting of a dishful of boiled eggs, bread and butter and steaming coffee, before his guests. He sat down then, looking them over with a curious glance, but saying nothing until with a sigh of rare content Phil put down his knife and fork, with the remark: "That was simply fine." "Best ever!" added Andy with enthusiasm. "Things are bad," said Ralph bluntly, bolting into a subject he knew naturally to be the one then uppermost in the minds of his young friends. "It's war, boys, swift and sure. Everybody has waked up. Why, for two nights we haven't even been in bed at this house. There are friends coming from all directions, couriers arriving, messages sent out. Mr. Eaton has made a kind of office of the best room here. Two men from Lexington arrived just before you did. They are massing some military stores there, and men, too, and Gen. Gage has to make just one more move of tyranny to have the Colonial army march down on Boston and drive him out of it." "What has the general been doing?" inquired Andy. "He had a plot to capture and hang all of the patriotic leaders. Somehow, the plot failed." Phil and Andy exchanged gratified glances. Each was filled with a thrill of gladness as they were moved with the mutual idea that their humble exertions had something to do with this favorable aspect of the case. "Gage has been planting spies and massing secret supplies all over the colony," went on Ralph. "The main trouble in organizing our army has been in getting arms and ammunition. Why, in some districts the British agents have bought up all the loose powder in the country stores. Some of it they hid, and a lot of it they burned up." "The rascals!" flared up Andy.