Phil and his comrades were very proud to be sent on their horses to carry important messages to outlying squads from Captain Parker and his assistants. A good many boys of their own age were grouped on a slope near the edge of the town. Phil and his friends decided to join them. They picketed their horses at a short distance and shouldering the muskets they had obtained mingled with the little squad. The situation grew more tense as time passed on. The couriers came in more numerously and swiftly, and in increased excitement. A belt of timber shut out a sight of the road beyond Lexington, but finally there rounded its final curve the advance guard of the enemy. Phil never could realize how rapidly and sensationally, from the moment he saw the first British soldier of the invaders, did things develop. There was skirmishing from the instant they came in sight of the town. Shots were exchanged with men from behind trees and hedges, in stable lofts, half-concealed in haystacks. There must have been over six hundred men in the British detachment, Phil calculated, under the British officer Major Pitcairn. They were well-disciplined, for they marched steadily forward, rarely breaking ranks, and seemed to have some definite point in view. It soon became apparent that the stout log house that comprised the town arsenal, and which held military stores, was the place the invaders intended to reach. As Major Pitcairn came up close to the assembled colonists he suddenly halted his force. "Disperse, ye rebels, disperse!" he cried. "Lay down your arms, ere it is too late!" "Never!" cried several of the Minute Men. "Disperse!" went on the British officer, and then, as the Americans did not move, he fired his pistol. A moment later the British troops let fly a volley of shots at the Americans. "The battle is on!" yelled one patriot. "Give it to 'em, boys, give it to 'em hot!" And he took aim with his musket and let drive, and all those around him did likewise. In that first onslaught several were killed on both sides and a good many were wounded. Phil and those with him were forced to disperse. It was in the scurry to new cover that Ralph made out Andy, who had become separated from them, borne along with an onpressing crowd. Andy was hatless, and a red-stained handkerchief bound his head. That he had been wounded there was no doubt and Phil, made aware of Ralph's discovery, was truly anxious for the welfare of his redoubtable chum. "Halt--get ready!" roared a stentorian voice, and over the crest of the hill dashed several leaders, directing little groups to action. Phil, Ralph and several of their own age were stationed behind a marked battery of bushes. The road space was cleared. Suddenly twenty men swung around, and Phil saw what was brewing. They carried great round logs. "I'm in for that!" cried Phil, springing from cover, and Ralph joined him.