"What I tell you is true, Amos," and the listener was thoroughly surprised by the change in the bearing of Master Piemont's apprentice. "What do you want of me?" he asked, sharply. "I don't know," Hardy replied, in a tone of despair. "It seems as if everybody was my enemy. I went down to Jim Gray's house this afternoon, and he wouldn't so much as look at me." "Do you think he has good reason to be friendly with you?" "You say that because his brother was killed at the Custom House. Amos, I didn't think anything like murder could happen when I told the crowd the soldier on the steps was the one who had knocked me down. If you had been treated as I was, and saw the man standing there when you believed the soldiers were going to rise against us, you might have done the same thing." "Well, and if I might, what then, Hardy Baker? What do you want of me?" "I want you to talk with me, Amos. It seems as if everybody believed I was as much of a murderer as the 'bloody backs,' and Master Piemont told me this afternoon never to show my face near his shop again--that I wasn't wholesome even for Britishers to look at." "I don't think, Hardy," and now Amos's tone was less sharp than before, "that you should expect either the people or the soldiers would be very friendly toward you." "But I didn't do this thing. I didn't have any more hand in it than you, or Jim Gray, or Chris Snyder." "But how can you charge us with any concern in it?" "Wasn't it all a piece of work beginning with what we did to Master Lillie? Hasn't it grown out of that?" "Of course not. Ebenezer Richardson's bloody deed had nothing to do with the soldiers," Amos cried, quickly, but at the same time a terrible fear took possession of him that possibly the tragedy on Hanover Street might have had some connection with that at the Custom House. "But, Amos," Hardy continued, imploringly, "when poor little Chris Snyder was killed through what we did to Master Lillie, and you were as much concerned in the matter as I, you didn't accuse me then of being at fault." "No," Amos said, slowly and thoughtfully, "because that which we did, so Master Revere said, was not done with any idea or possibility in our minds that bloodshed might follow." "Nor was there in my mind any idea that bloodshed might follow when I told the crowd the soldier at the Custom House was the one who had knocked me down." During several moments Amos stood silent and motionless. Hardy's offending seemed less heinous in his eyes than it had a few moments previous, and he said, in a milder tone: "I won't be one to accuse you, Hardy; but let me advise you to leave the affairs of the city to those who are older and have better judgment. Don't go about any more with such companions as have been yours during the past few days." "Will you forgive me, Amos, for what I did yesterday?" "I surely ought to, after we settled it with our fists." "May I walk home with you?" Hardy asked, meekly, after a brief pause.