country. Boys, these men are crazy; they are so because the moon is at the full."

Instantly the Green Mountain Boys were ready to resist any attack.

The sheriff gave the order to fire.

Both sides obeyed the sheriff, and a blinding smoke rose from the old muskets.

No one was hurt, for neither side liked to be the first to shed blood.

Another volley was fired, and one of the defenders was wounded.

At the word they rushed out and threw themselves on the sheriff's posse, and, with muskets clubbed, they drove the Yorkers back, breaking many a head and inflicting more damage than they received.

The Yorkers rallied and loaded their muskets.

Sheriff Merrit, with a courage worthy of a better cause, addressed his men.

"Yorkers, we must have the body of Ethan Allen, dead or alive. We must quell this revolt against lawful authority. Will you follow me?"

"Ay, to the death!"

"The courts have decided that the land belongs to New York; the king, God bless him! has confirmed the decree, and opposition to it is treason. Ay, treason, which our king has called upon us to stamp out. Are you ready?"

"Ay, we will give our lives for the king."

Ethan Allen knew that the very name of the king was sufficient to strike awe into the minds of the people.

At that time the king was looked upon as the anointed of Heaven, and only the boldest would dare to say a word against him.

Allen was too democratic to look upon George as infallible, and to him he was only the head of the nation, and no better than any other man.

But the mass of the people had not shaken off their Old World ideas of royalty.

"Boys, it may be that his majesty has confirmed the decree," said Allen, "but he was misinformed, and when he hears from our own governor, the governor from whom we hold our lands, he will change his opinion and secure us in our titles. Until then shall we defend them ourselves?"

"Ay, to the death," answered Seth Warner.

"Then load your guns, and let us drive back these Yorkers into their own colony."

The Green Mountain Boys fell into line, Ethan Allen and Seth Warner in front, and in that order they marched against the sheriff's posse.

Volley after volley was fired, and several on each side fell wounded, some fatally.

Back fell the Yorkers, and still onward went the gallant boys under Allen's lead.

Allen thought the march too slow, and he gave the order to go at double quick.

The Yorkers had but little time to load their muskets, and they had not the quickness possessed by the mountaineers.

The unfortunate Sheriff Merrit many times tried to halt his men so that they might pour a volley into the ranks of the mountain boys, but they had become too demoralized to make any determined stand.

Merrit, with the courage which almost ennobled him, snatched a musket from the hands of one of his men and, standing in the middle of the road, took deliberate aim at Ethan Allen and fired.

The ball went wide of its mark, but the intrepid sheriff loaded quickly and again attempted to fire, but he spilled the powder from his pan, and the spark did not fire the musket.

Then he clubbed the weapon and rushed forward to meet the brave leader of the Mountain Boys, and was within a few feet of Allen when he tripped and fell.

His musket fell under him, and by some unaccountable chance was fired, blowing off the top of Merrit's head.

The Yorkers were thrown in a panic by the sight, and ran faster than they had ever thought possible until they were over the border and considered themselves safe from pursuit.

The victory was with the Mountain Boys, but Allen feared that it would prove dearly bought, for the laws were so strict at that time, and all his party might be held responsible for the death of the sheriff, who, being a king's officer, was sacred.

He gave the order to march back to their homes and see to the wounded.

Only one man died from the effects of his wounds, though others were in a bad way.

Save for the attendance upon the wounded, the farmers of Bennington might have thought the fight with and pursuit of the Yorkers only a dream, so readily did they settle down to their farm duties.

Several weeks passed and no sign of any move was made by the Yorkers.

Ethan Allen had sent a full account of the affair to the Governor of New Hampshire, by the hands of his brother Ira, but save for saying that the account should be read carefully, the governor had taken no further notice.

Seth Warner had a cousin in Albany, and he induced him to send regular reports of the doings in New York, in so far as they effected the New Hampshire grants.

And during all those weeks the news came that nothing was being done. Ethan believed in the old adage that a quiet always preceded a storm, and he held himself in readiness to meet it.

The Green Mountain Boys were drilled regularly, and the watchword was looked for whenever any met the chosen messengers of the colonel.

Eben had proved himself very useful, but for several days he had been away, and Ethan was getting uneasy about him.

July had come, with all its heat and unpleasantness, and still Eben was absent.

That something had happened to him all believed, for he had never been known to absent himself from his friends for so long a time before.

It was on the tenth of July that Eben craved entrance to the residence of Ethan Allen.

"Where have you been?" asked the colonel.

"Do not be cross with me. I have only been doing what I thought ought to be done. I have been in Concord."

"What have you been doing there?"

"Keeping my mouth shut and my ears open."

"And what have you heard?"

"Much that you ought to know, and I will tell you if you are not cross with me."

"I am never cross with you, Eben."

"Then you are to be sent for to Concord, and will be sent as a prisoner to Albany. Gov. Tryon says he will hang you as soon as you reach that city."

"How learned you this?"

"Nay, should I tell you I might never learn anything more."

"When am I to be sent for?"

"The messenger is on his way. If you do as we would like you would not go."

"Why?"

"Because the governor will purchase peace for himself by having you hanged."

"Hush! there is some one even now at the door."

"Welcome, most worthy Talbot!" exclaimed Allen, when Assistant District Attorney Talbot entered. "What brings you so far from Concord?"

"A message to you, Ethan Allen."

"To me?"

"Yes, from the governor."

"A message from Gov. Wentworth is always welcome."

"It may not be so in this case. I will explain. An application has been made for your extradition by the governor of New York."

"Indeed! And what have I done?"

"You are charged with killing a king's officer and robbing him of certain documents which bore the seal of the Colony of New York."

"Of both of which crimes I am innocent."

"And so the governor thinks, but he has commanded me to explain that it is necessary that you return with me to Concord, there to satisfy the court of your innocence."

Ethan looked at Eben, and the youth made a sign to convey that the information he had given was correct and that treachery was intended.

"And if I decline to go?"

"You will not decline."

"I may."

"You must not."

"I may do so; what then?"

"Then I shall order you into arrest."

"And take me by force to Concord, and from thence to Albany?"

"If the governor so orders."

"Then go straight back to the governor and tell him that, with all due respect to him and his authority, I will not go until I am ready, and that if you attempt to arrest me I shall resist by force. I am a free man, and by the grant signed by the governor I am free from arrest unless the local tribunal so orders, and you cannot get any justice in all the Green Mountains to order me