didn't git roast pig
might come back and try it this evenin'."

"Hope ye don't intend fightin' round here. My wife Nancy is dretful
nervous."

"My kind and tremulous friend, do ye want the pig-stickers ter git yer
pigs? We 'lowed as how we might stay here an' save yer next winter's
pork. 'Sposin' you explain it to Nancy. We'll not allow any one to
hurt her, if we can help it."

This seemed to satisfy the farmer; but he took fresh alarm when Zeb
went along to a two-wheeled ox-cart, piled high with hay and backed
against the pen. As Zeb raised the tongue, and told Bunster to put a
stick under it, the farmer called excitedly, "Look out! Ye'll tip it
into the pig pen; that load is too heavy behind, anyhow."

"Hay mought be good fer some kind o' hogs," which enigmatic remark by
Zeb called forth no response from the farmer, who bade them good night
and went into the house.

"I'll stand guard the first part or we'll draw lots, as you wish,"
said Rodney.

It was decided to draw lots, but Rodney, drawing the shortest straw,
had his wish to stand guard the first part of the night for, though
tired, he was not sleepy.

His companions threw themselves down on the hay at the foot of the
rick and soon, by their regular breathing, he knew they slept. Sleep
was a luxury with the Rangers in those days of continuous scout duty.
Rodney's nerves were high strung and no sound escaped him. He heard
the rustle of a toad in the grass at his feet. An occasional mosquito
hummed about his ears. His mind wandered away to that little Indian
village he had known. In his imagination he could hear the crooning
song of the squaws about the camp-fires, the shrill cries of the
whip-poor-will. He thought of the old Indian chief, whose savage
hands had so often grasped the rifle the boy now held. Had Ahneota
lived he doubtless would be encouraging the red men in aid of the
British, and would not hesitate to torture women and children as well
as men. How he hated the whites!

Hark! What was that sound? Surely the clink of the iron shoe of a
horse on a stone in the road!

The boy waked his sleeping companions. They seized their rifles and
all went nearer the road.

Out of the darkness misshapen objects could just be discerned, and the
guttural voices of several Hessians could be heard. Then a light
glimmered as one of the approaching party drew an old horn lantern
from under his cloak. Two others, by aid of the light, clambered into
the pen,