"It's about that," responded Ralph in a spirited tone. "Anybody would be blind not to see that cannons will soon be booming and the Tories scampering back to England. I'm going to Boston. Why, I can't sleep nights thinking of the turmoil and excitement there. I was born to be in the center of a mix up, always. Yes, I'm going to Boston, and I'm going to get into Boston, too." "Of course we will go with you," said Phil. "I am anxious about the folks. The Musket Boys will need me, too." "Hope I'm not going to be left out of the procession," observed Andy. "No, indeed," replied Ralph with unction, and so it was settled. Ralph waited until Mr. Eaton returned from the settlement, and had quite a lengthy conversation with them. The patriot shook hands all around and Mrs. Eaton kissed the boys good-by in a motherly fashion, and handed Ralph a home-made wicker basket. "When the war is over, Mrs. Eaton," said Andy, "I'm coming back here to eat some more of those splendid doughnuts of yours." "You will find a supply in the basket there," replied Mrs. Eaton, with an encouraging smile. The morning had dawned bright and beautiful, and early spring was beginning to touch the landscape here and there with green. There was a pretty good road clear to Boston, and the wayfarers took their time, planning that they would reach the city after dark, which would certainly be the best time to make an attempt to evade the British soldiers in an effort to reach the Warrington home. They came across few people going towards the city. In one little village they passed through, they found business practically suspended. Nearly all of its residents were gathered on the village green listening to the oration of a man, who was desperately in earnest in warning them to prepare for war. He aroused a vast patriotic spirit, and when he had concluded his speech he sprang at once to the saddle of a mettled steed standing by the horse block, and dashed down the road in the direction of the next town, probably intent on warning all the colonists along the route. At a second little settlement the boys were halted on the highway and questioned by one of a party of men, all armed with muskets, and seemingly guarding the road. "Things are certainly humming," observed Ralph Post a little later, as, passing a lonely farmhouse, they observed a stalwart woman and her two sons burnishing up a sword and two muskets. Dusk found them only a few miles from Boston. Phil, who knew the road, told his companions that they could reach the city within an hour. Ralph, it seemed, had been instructed to go to a certain place on the river opposite the city, and there consult with some friends who would advise them as to the safest way to get past the sentry lines of the Tories. "Perhaps we had better keep off the main road the rest of the way," suggested Phil. "Besides, I know a good short cut to Dockrell's Mill, where Mr. Eaton said we would find his friends."