is the spot where they shot our pastor's boy, only two days ago. I fear
the place. A few rods beyond, we will again strike the thicket, and be
under cover until we reach the river."

The solemn quiet that precedes a hot summer dawn surrounded the man and
boy. The red band broadened in the east. The birds, fearing neither
friend nor foe, began to challenge the stillness with their glad notes,
and so guide and follower passed the gruesome place where young Sam
White gave up his untried life a few short days ago. The thicket gained,
the two paused for breath.

"We must not talk in the boat, sir." They had reached the moored boat
now. "Pray tell me how I am to know our General's messenger."

"By this." The stranger detached a charm from a hidden chain and held it
in his palm so that the clearer light fell upon it. "I command you to
learn its peculiarities well. There must be no blunder."

It was very quaint. Andy's keen eye took in every detail.

"I shall know it," he sighed. And the stranger smiled and replaced it.
"And you, sir?" he faltered, for the hour of parting came with a strange
sadness; "may I not know your name? You have made me so proud and happy
because you accepted my poor service."

"George Washington, and your true friend, Andy McNeal! We are both
serving the same great cause. God keep us both!"

The General clasped the boy's trembling hand, and Andy looked through
dim eyes into the face of his hero. The hero who for months past had