ght, sinewy fellow with shrewd, kindly gray eyes and
"sandy" hair. He was clad like a frontiersman and the moment the
colonel saw him he exclaimed, "By all that's good an' glorious, Zeb,
I've seen ye in my dreams followin' me up the ladder at the barrier,
but I never expected to see ye in the flesh again. Where's yer
Fidus--what's his name, that Lovell boy?"[1]

"I left him in Boston after the evacuation, an' haven't heard from him
since. How are you?"

"Never so well in my life. Prison fare up in old Quebec agreed with
me, I reckon. Boys," he said, turning to a knot of his men who had
gathered about, "this man Zeb, an' a Boston boy, brought up the rear
on that march to Quebec. It was the hardest thing I ever did when I
detailed 'em for the duty. How they got through alive I never could
understand. And young Allison, here, is a chap as was with me fightin'
Indians out in the Ohio country. I wish all the boys who've marched
with me could fall into the ranks to-day; we'd keep right on to New
York an' capture Howe, bag an' baggage."

"When we take New York," laughed Zeb, "we'll need more men than
Congress ever has got together, I'm thinkin'. I was there when
Washington tried to hold it, because Congress an' the country expected
him to do the impossible. But, Colonel, I will say as how if you led
the way, thar'd not be one of 'em, as ever marched with Morgan, who
wouldn't be at yer back."

"Good! I like that kind of talk. Meanwhile we'll get the kinks out of
our legs marching to Morristown."

"So you are an Injun fighter," remarked Zeb to Rodney, as they fell
into line side by side.

"Scarcely that," replied Rodney, flushing with pleasure as he thought
of the introduction by his colonel. "I've been made prisoner by them,
lived with them for a time and ran away from 'em, doing a little
fighting by the way."

"Anyhow, the colonel appears to like ye, an' that's a recommendation
not to be sneezed at."

"I hope I can keep his good will. I never saw a man whose men were
more loyal."

"He's a lion in a fight, asks no man to go whar he won't go himself.
And he knows what the boys are thinkin' about, an' just how to manage
'em."

"I was told that on the march to the Scioto one of his men disobeyed
orders, in fact had been disgruntled for some time, and that Morgan
walked up to him and said, 'Come with me a minute.' They went into the
woods together and, when they came back, the man had a black eye and
looked as though