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 occasional spies, Squire—while they may know o' its existence, yet are unaware o' its location. That be why, ye understand, I am e'er nervous at night, with Joseph away, for any attack o' the British will naturally be aimed at the headquarters or—the powder mill!"

"Oh!" exclaimed Mehitable, "what a lovely spot! Think o't, Cherry—spies and the powder mill and—and—the routs we are to attend! 'Tis too heavenly to be true!" She sighed ecstatically.

They all joined in the Squire's burst of laughter, even the quiet Tabitha, who chuckled over the stocking she was knitting at the girl who liked such a conglomeration of things.

As Mistress Lindsley predicted, everyone slept soundly that night, and early the next morning Squire Condit headed his team and the farm sled toward home.

"Tell our mother we be thinking o' her," begged Charity wistfully, evincing a desire to linger near her father.

"And tell her not to forget to water my plants!" Mehitable called after him when he departed. The Squire nodded and smiled, and his two daughters waved to him until he was out of sight and then turned back in rather a homesick fashion toward the house.

They were met at the kitchen door by Mistress