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 McNeal, that is rank ingratitude.  You’ve been up to some mighty doings, that I know, or you would not be hungering for more glory.  Oh, I can see a bit ahead of my nose.  Time was when you hung around, not knowing glory because it had not come your way.  You’ve tasted it, Andy, and your thirst grows.  I know a thing or two.  You’re getting strong, too, Andy; you’re an inch taller than I. Father mentioned the fact this very morning.  You’re taking on airs, but remember, I knew you when you were less a man.  Have a care; a woman has a tongue.  I’ll be calling you down if you carry things with too high a hand.”

Andy laughed and stood straighter.  Then, very quietly: 

“Andy, what was the master’s name?”

“Ruth, I do not know.”

“Do not, or will not tell?”

“I do not know.”

“Can you tell me why he stayed here?”

“I cannot tell you, Ruth.  Why do you ask?” The girl paused and dropped her clear eyes.