oy of helping, in a small
way, the great cause.

"The need is urgent," smiled the boy; "in that case a lame fellow might
not be despised."

He recalled the stranger's face, and his courage grew.

"Chances are so few!" he muttered; "I must take this one."

At the first rustling of the birds in the trees, Andy crept down-stairs.
His mother's room and the guest-room both opened from the living-room,
but Janie's door was closed, while the stranger's was ajar. Through it
came the sound of low-spoken words.

"Accept the thanks of thy servant for all bountiful mercies of the past.
Guide his future steps. Bless our enemies, and make them just. Amen."

The boy bowed his head, instinctively. Surely he had nothing to fear
from such a man. He went nearer and tapped lightly on the door. Light as
was the touch, the stranger started.

"Come!" There was a welcome in the word. Andy stepped cautiously inside.

"Good-morning, sir."

"The same to you, my lad." The keen eyes softened as they fell upon the
rude crutch. "How can I serve you!"

"Sir, I have come to offer my services to you. I heard you tell my
mother that you needed some one to row you across the river. I am a good
rower."

The man looked puzzled. "You are the widow's son? Is not the task too
great?"

"My lameness does not hinder much. I use the crutch mainly to hasten my
steps; I can walk without it. I am very strong in other ways. I think I
am just beginning to find out how strong I am, myself. None know the
woods better than I. I can take you by a short cut to the river, and I
have my own boat moored and ready. It will be a small matter to reach
the opposite shore by sunrise if we start at once." Andy was panting
with excitement. "Pray, sir, let me do this; there are so few chances
for such as I."

The listener smiled kindly.

"You are just the guide I need," he said, and Andy knew there was no
flattery in the words. "I must leave it for you to thank your good
mother for her hospitality. I have been ready for an hour. Lead on, my
boy!"

Silently they stole from the house. The birds twittered as they passed,
for the tall man touched the lower boughs and disturbed the nestlings.

"Bend low," whispered Andy, "the way leads through small spaces."

On they went, sometimes creeping under the hanging rocks, always
clinging to the shelter of trees and bushes. They both knew the danger
that might lie near in the form of a British sentinel.

"The path seems un