u have made brighter for me
many a weary hour. I care not what the thoughtless may think of me, but
I would have you know that what the future holds of seeming dishonor and
shame, I assumed in truest loyalty.

"From what I am to do, others shrank. I saw but one way, though, God
knows, my heart was wrung. I reserve nothing. Even what seems my honor I
give to my country and Washington!"

The master and Andy stood still in the moonlight, and the two young
faces gleamed white and troubled. "Good-night and farewell. Thank your
mother." He was gone.

Andy painfully and slowly climbed the stairs and entered his bedroom.

His heart was very heavy. He had seemed on the verge of doing a great
service, and behold, the chance had fled.

CHAPTER V

A SUSPICION

September dragged wretchedly. There was no need of stealing among the
bushes for news or amusement.

Indeed, Andy wisely concluded that to keep to the open, innocent ways
would be the only possible thing that could help the absent master.

He missed the lessons and the exciting comradeship, too; the contrast
was painful. Janie saw, but questioned not. It was all beyond her. Ruth
was the only relief.

"Fear not, Andy," she would say. "You must bide your time, and wait
patiently. 'Tis what Washington is doing. Copy your General in this, as
well as other things. One may serve in that way as well as in others.
You should hear the tales Hans Brickman tells of the doings in the
patriot camp. He carries eggs and honey, you know.

"He says that Washington isn't just fighting or holding in check the
king's men; but his own troops are acting shamefully--threatening to
desert, and begging for money; complaining all day long. Oh! if I were a
soldier I would show them!" The girl flung her strong young arms above
her head, and brought down her clenched fists in a laughably vehement
way.

"And there sits that great General, never flinching, but writing to
Congress to pay the babies; and calming the tyrants with one breath, and
shaming them into obedience with the next.

"Hans says he dashes at them sometimes with his sword, and slaps the raw
recruits into shape, telling them that if they run when he orders them
to advance, he'll shoot them himself. There's a man for you!"

"Indeed there is a man," nodded Andy, and his face grew brighter. "And I
should cry shame to myself because I am so impatient of this lameness
which holds me back."

"Holds you back! Andy McNea