s of a darker
brown than Winifred's. They had both attended the same school until Lord
Cornwallis with his troops entered Philadelphia; since that time each
little girl had been taught at home.

"Is Hero here?" Ruth asked, hardly noticing her friend's question.

Winifred shook her head.

"Are you _sure_, Winifred? Perhaps he ran in your garden and you didn't
see him," said Ruth.

"Well, we'll see. We'll call him," Winifred replied, holding the door
open for Ruth to come in.

The Merrill and Pernell houses were separated by a high brick wall, and
each house stood near the street with broad gardens on each side as well
as at the rear.

The two friends went through the house, and out on a narrow porch and
Ruth called, "Hero! Hero!" but there was no welcoming bark, no sight of
the brown shepherd dog. They went about the yard calling, and Winifred's
older brother Gilbert, who was preparing a garden bed near the further
wall, assured them that the dog had not been there that morning.

"Then he is lost! What shall I do!" said Ruth despairingly. "I do
believe the English have taken him. Only yesterday, on Second Street,
when Aunt Deborah and I were coming home, an officer patted him and
called him a 'fine dog,'" she continued quickly.

Gilbert and Winifred both looked very serious at this statement. Gilbert
was fourteen years old. He was tall for his age, and thought himself
quite old enough to be a soldier; but as his father and elder brother
were both in Washington's army he realized that he must stay at home and
take care of his mother and Winifred.

"I have a mind to go straight to High Street and tell General Howe,"
said Ruth, "for I heard my mother say that the English general would not
permit his soldiers to take what did not belong to them."

Gilbert shook his head soberly.

"That may be true; but you are not sure that your dog has been stolen,"
he said. "You had best wait a while. Hero may have wandered off and may
come home safely. I'd not ask any favors of America's enemies," he
concluded, picking up his spade and turning back to his work.

"It wouldn't be a favor to ask for what belonged to me," Ruth answered
sharply. But Gilbert's words made her more hopeful; Winifred was sure
that Gilbert was right, and that Hero would come safely home.

"Come up to my room, Ruthie; Mother has given me her scrap-bag. I can
have all the pieces of silk and chintz to make things for my dolls, and
you can pick out some