the four boys has the leading rôle; once suspected of being an enemy to the colonies, he now proves that none can be more faithful than he.

Ezra and his friends appear again in a volume called “The Young Continentals at Trenton.” It tells something of the struggles about New York, and finally of the brilliant successes at Trenton and Princeton, in all of which the boys play their little parts bravely and well.

CHAPTER I—HOW EZRA PRENTISS HEARD OF A STRANGER

The tall bay horse and the little roan mare went at a hard gallop down the long, gentle descent of a hill. Both were flecked with foam, for the going was hard, despite the brisk April weather.

“How is the mare taking it?” asked Ezra Prentiss, after a time, drawing in the bay and patting his arched neck encouragingly.

The roan snorted and shook her head as though trying to answer for herself.

“It’s rather hard on her, I’m afraid,” returned Ben Cooper. “But she’s good for a great deal more of it.”

Part way down the slope both boys checked their mounts completely as though by mutual consent. Ezra sat silently in his saddle and swept the countryside with his steady gaze.

It was mid-afternoon and the sun was dropping fast toward the horizon in the west. Acres and acres of brown furrowed fields lay before them upon every side; afar off, men and horses were toiling with the plows; little clumps of houses were to be seen here and there, and tall columns of smoke ascended from the wide-mouthed chimneys into the clear air.

“We are going to have plenty to do from here to Chelmsford,” spoke Ezra at length. “The houses thicken considerably and there seem to be a great many men at work in the fields.” He paused once more, and then turning to Ben, added, “Do you think we can speak to all of them before night sets in?”

“If you took one road and I another, we might,” said Ben.

Ezra frowned. It was very evident that he did not particularly favor this.

“Since starting out from Cambridge we have separated twice,” said he. “And each time it had an almost serious result.”

“First a parcel of Tories were for putting an end to me for what they called treason to King and Parliament,” spoke Ben, good-humoredly.

“And that rascally tinker near Acton almost decoyed me into another nest of them,” added Ezra. “In these unsettled times the road is safer for two than one, especially after dark.”

Ben nodded.

“Right,” said he.

“However,” proceeded Ezra, “more or less danger was expected when we started out.” He touched the handle of a heavy holster pistol, and something of Ben’s good humor came into his face. “Another thing, the Tories are running as much risk as we are.”

“Right again,” declared the other boy. “That, I think, is the proper way to look at it.”

“And then,” continued Ezra, shifting his hand to a saddle pocket, almost filled to bursting with what looked like printed sheets, “we have these to deliver and no great time to do it in.”

There was a silence between them; they studied the country from the hillside and seemed to be revolving the matter earnestly. The brown fields were cut by the fairly smooth road which they were on, and a narrow, rutted wagonway.

“I’ll take this,” said Ezra, pointing toward the latter; “there seem to be quite a number of farmhouses over there beyond that rise, if we can judge by the smoke. You hold to the highroad and don’t miss a single man or boy.”

“Trust me for that,” said Ben. “But,” complainingly, “you always pick the hardest things to do for yourself. Molly is just as fresh as that beast of yours. And then she’s lighter and can pick her way along that broken road like a cat.”

Ezra laughed; and there was a look of appreciation in his eyes as he slapped his friend upon the back.

“Ben,” exclaimed he, “you’re the greatest fellow I ever knew! You always think your share of the work the easiest, no matter what it is. If General Ward had an army of fellows like you before Boston, Gage would not be able to hold the town for a week.”

Far away, against the horizon line, a spire arose from amidst a clump of dwellings.

“I will meet you there as soon after dark as I can,” continued Ezra, his outstretched finger indicating the tower. “If there is an inn wait for me there.”

After a few words more, Ezra urged the reluctant bay into the much cut wagon road; Ben, upon the soft-stepping roan, went loping easily down the highroad, his usually laughing face grave as became a rider with an urgent mission to perform.

Ezra Prentiss after a time dismounted and led his steed by the bridle.

“Mr. Paul Revere used to say a horse well looked after always finished earlier in the day,” said he to himself with a smile. “And I guess it’s true. At any rate, old fellow,” to the bay, “the going is too hard for a rider here; so I’ll try walking for a little, anyway.”

In a field he saw two men working with teams of oxen. He waited at a fence corner until one of them had completed his furrow.

“Good-day, neighbor,” called the boy.

“Good-day,” returned the farmer.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead and approached Ezra, glad of an excuse for a moment’s rest from his toil.

“Riding from Boston way?” he inquired eagerly.

“I left Cambridge a few days ago,” replied Ezra.

As he spoke the lad drew out one of the sheets from his saddle pocket and unfolded it. It was covered with an announcement in heavy, bold-faced type.

“This,” said the boy, “is issued by the Massachusetts Committee of Safety, and riders have been sent out in every direction to deliver them to the towns and people round-about.”

The farmer took the circular and began an earnest study of its appeal. The other man, seeing that something unusual was going forward, halted his team and also approached. Leaning over the shoulder of the first, he, too, read the earnest lines.

“You have heard long since what has been done,” said Ezra, soberly, when the two had finished and stood silently gazing at him. “We have struck the first real blow against the oppressors of the colonies. But what was done at Lexington and Concord is only a beginning.”

“A beginning!” said the first man, in surprise.

“Do you really mean to say that Dr. Warren and those others actually intend to go further in the matter?” exclaimed the second.

“They must,” said Ezra. The two before him had weak, wavering faces and thin, light-colored hair; from the close resemblance they bore each other, he judged they must be brothers. “To get any result from the first blow, a second must be struck,” he went on. “There would have been no use in making a beginning if an ending were not also made.”

“England is a powerful nation,” said the first man. “Eh, Josiah?”

“Mighty powerful,” agreed the other, “and so is the King and Parliament.”

“If the people of the colonies remain united and if every man does his full duty, the power of England, her King and Parliament, will be as that,” and the boy snapped his fingers. “This circular calls for the towns to encourage the enlistment of men in the colonial army, as you have seen. It tells you that every moment is precious. A day’s delay may mean the loss of all; it may bring slavery upon you.” He was quoting the document.

But the two men shook their heads. Indecision and fear of the situation were plain in their faces.

“We’ve just lately taken this farm,” said the one called Josiah, “and we’ve counted on this season’s yield to help pay for it. We can’t go into the army.”

“If every