dy
watched him, remembering that other face in the greenhouse on the
never-to-be-forgotten night.

"Where did you get these?" he said suddenly. Andy stood up leaning upon
his crutch.

"A messenger, in time of danger, must come as he may, sir," he said,
bravely. Then tearing off the bonnet he added:

"Andy McNeal, at your service, sir!" Washington's face never betrayed
him, but a glad look came to the overweary eyes. He extended his hand,
and grasped Andy's.

"I remember!" he said. "You have been true to your trust. And now for
the story."

Sitting in the stately room of the mansion, opposite the great General,
Andy McNeal told his story. Try as he might, his voice would break, but
he thought no shame of his weakness, for the keen eyes looking into his
own were often dim.

"I asked a great thing of Nathan Hale," said the General at last, "but
he gave it willingly. Andy McNeal, you have been a faithful friend to as
great a hero as the Revolution will ever know. Many offer their lives.
He offered his honor. Willing was he to die, and to die dishonored by
the many. Some day his country will understand."

"And, sir, do you know the British are bringing their ships up the
river?"

Washington's eyes gleamed. "I have sent men to Frog's Point," he smiled.
"They will meet a welcome when they land. Thank you. And now farewell.
Take heed as you return. You are safer without a guard."

"Is there no work for me to do? Is there no place in the ranks for such
as I?"

The tremendous question broke from Andy's lips. To go back into idleness
was his one dread. He longed to follow; to be the humblest, but most
patriotic, of the many. Washington understood.

"I must leave here directly," he answered. "Ere another week passes I
shall be gone. Where future battles are to be fought, remains to be
seen, but always, my first object is to guard the Hudson. I need
faithful hearts here. I shall not forget you, Andy McNeal, nor your
service. If I can use you, be ready. I shall know where to find you. You
are sure to be more useful here than elsewhere. You know your woods as
few others do, and I know I can depend upon your courage and
faithfulness. Again farewell."

Andy arose, drew on the disguising headgear, not even thinking of it, so
full was his heart, and so he departed to face whatever lay before.

The immediate thing that faced Andy McNeal was the meeting with his own
father. It took all the courage he possessed to do this,