Joe went up, and was startled by a groan.
He had to stand a few seconds, to let the darkness grow into
light, ere he could see; and, when he could discern outlines in
the dimness, there was given to him the picture of Uncle John,
lying helpless amid and upon the nubbins that had been piled over
his strong box.
"Why, Uncle John, are you dead?" asked Joe, climbing over to his
side.
"Is the house afire?" was the response.
"House afire? No! The confounded red-coats up and put it out."
"I thought they was going to let me burn to death up here!"
groaned Uncle John.
"Can I help you up?" and Joe proffered two strong hands, rather
black with toil and smoke.
"No, no! You can't help me. If the house isn't afire, I'll
stand it till the fellows are gone, and then, Joe you fetch the
doctor as quick as you can."
"YOU can't get a doctor for love nor money this night, Uncle
John. There's too much work to be done in Lexington and Concord
to-night for wounded and dying men; and there'll be more of 'em
too afore a single red-coat sees Boston again. They'll be hunted
down every step of the way. They've killed Captain Davis, from
Acton."
"You don't say so!"
"Yes, they have, and--"
"I say, Joe Devins, go down and do- do something. There's my
niece, a-feeding the murderers! I'll disown her. She shan't
have a penny of my pounds, she shan't!"
Both Joe and Uncle John were compelled to remain in inaction,
while below, the weary little woman acted the kind hostess to His
Majesty's troops.
Pages:
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40