Phil poked his head out and announced that it was safe to emerge from covert. They stood on a known street that was deserted, hurried to the next corner, and, gaining confidence as they got among houses and shops, felt that they were safe to go their way as unchallenged as the regular residents of the city. "Where first, Phil?" inquired Andy. "Home!" answered Phil promptly, and the eager, heartfelt ring in his voice made Andy think of Concord with a queer, longing thrill. After that Phil said little or nothing. Andy was too absorbed in watching what was going on about him to notice at once the silent mood of his comrade, but finally he asked: "What makes you so quiet, Phil?" "The change," answered the Boston boy seriously. "It doesn't seem like the old town at all. It is so quiet and dreary. In the old springtimes like this the boys would be out playing Hunt the Grey or Pump Pump Peel Away, and the shops would be bright and cheery. See those redcoats parading everywhere, scaring women and children. There seems to be a blight and gloom on everything." "There's your house, Phil," said Andy recognizing the Warrington home from his former visit to Boston. "It doesn't look much like the bright, jolly old place, does it, now?" asked Phil, rather mournfully. "Just to think of the changes of a year--father out of business and a prisoner. Oh, it seems to me the whole city is in mourning." "It won't be long, though," declared Andy. "Gen. Washington says he has come here to drive the redcoats out to sea, and we'll help him at it." "The back way, Andy," said Phil, as they neared the house. "You know, it mustn't get around that I am home. There may be some neighbors in the house. It might reach the ears of the Tories, and they'd probably make no bones of shutting up the son of a rebel." "And a continental soldier in the bargain," added Andy. "That's so, Phil. How will you keep from being recognized in the streets when you go around in daylight, though!" "We must make some change in our looks. Here we are." Phil had gone around to the kitchen door. He peeped in at a side window of the other part of the house. He saw some visitors in the sitting room. He knocked lightly at the kitchen door. Then, with a quick whisper to Andy, he pushed him forward. In a moment or two the kitchen door was opened. Phil's mother confronted Andy in the dark. "Who is it?" she asked gently. "Close the door for a moment, Mrs. Warrington, please, and come outside, will you? Don't be afraid--I'm Andy Sabine, from Concord." "Why--" began Phil's mother in a fluttering whisper, but coming out upon the steps. "Nobody must know that we are here, so don't betray us," went on Andy. "We? us?" repeated the gentle lady. "Yes, Mrs. Warrington. Phil is with me." Phil stepped into view,--to be wrapped in the arms of his mother.