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 All along the highway, as Zenas and Sally proceeded toward the Mountain settlement, they were constantly stopped by folk who ran out into their path, pathetically eager for news of the battle at Newark. Sally saw many of the refugees they had noticed the previous night among them and came at last upon the old gentleman who had fled with his daughter and her little children.

"What news? What news?" he inquired, feebly hastening out to them from the roadside, his grandchild having run to report to him of their approach.

"Little can we give ye, sir," answered Sally pitifully. "Only that the enemy did march through the Town by the River, having arrived there about noon, driving four hundred head o' cattle and four hundred head o' sheep, wi' some horses which they gathered as they came from Elizabeth Town!"

"The varlets!" A bright blaze of anger flung a red banner in the old man's parchment cheeks. "Robbing us that they may live i' luxury! Thankee, miss," he added, as Sally touched her horse and trotted on after Zenas.

Again and again were the young riders detained—almost every farmhouse having its quota of eager watchers out to stop travelers from Newark—and when they came at last to Samuel Munn's Tavern, they were both tired and hungry. It was just as Sally drew rein before the tavern that the same thought struck her that flashed into Zenas's