The two speakers stood in the lower part of the Sabine barn, dimly outlined by a lantern hung from a beam. Overhead, active, rapid footsteps crossed the floor. There was the sound of serious, business-like voices, although they were juvenile in expression. It was easy to surmise that the boys marching club was in session, or rather at practice, for the orders spoken were quite martial and there was the jingle and clank of firearms. Andy had a patch of sticking plaster on one side of his head. Secretly he was very proud of the grazed skin underneath, which a British bullet at Lexington had furrowed. With his mates he was a grand hero, and many a comrade envied him the honor of being the first boy wounded in the Revolutionary War. That had been a strenuous morning for Phil, Andy and Ralph. On their horses that had safely rounded the British marchers, they had reached Concord to find that town prepared to meet the enemy, but glad to receive the latest intelligence of the movements of the British. All the night every boy and man in Concord had been doing double duty. Earthworks had been thrown up, some of their military stores conveyed into hiding, various points selected where strong resistance to the invading foe might prove effective, and now all that was to be done was to wait for the climax of the impending conflict. The Minute Men from Lincoln had come in and were soon followed by the patriots from Acton. Then the British were seen advancing. "They are too strong for us," said one of the old veterans of the French and Indian Wars. "Better lay back until more men come in." And this was done. Soon the Minute Men from Bedford, Westford, Carlisle, and other points appeared, until, all told, the ready-to-fight colonists numbered about four hundred and fifty. They massed themselves on a hill on the opposite side of the Charles river, overlooking Concord. Andy's family and friends had given Phil and Ralph a royal welcome. Now since dusk the club had been drilling in the barn loft. Phil and Ralph had been gone about an hour, when the former returned to report. "There may be no attack for some hours yet," he said to Andy. "The Britishers are moving cautiously. What I have found out is that some one here in the village is in league with them." "And that some one?" asked Andy. "Is old Jasper Bram. I have been watching his house. You know old Silas Berks advised it. Mysterious persons have come and gone away in the direction of the British troops. Bram is doing something to help them. I am going straight back there on the watch as soon as I get a morsel to eat. We may find out something important, see?" "Yes, I see," said Andy, "only, don't you miss being here with the company when the trouble begins." "I shall not, Andy."