amped on the shore of Lake Dunmore, and made
the place their headquarters for the district.

Eben was returning to the camp one night when he was accosted by a lad
about his own age.

"You're a stranger about here, eh?" said the lad.

"Yes; just looking about."

"Oh, from New York?"

"No, I come from New Hampshire."

"So did I. I used to live in Concord. Ever in Concord?"

"Many times," answered Eben.

"Then we ought to be friends. Looking for work?"

"Partly. My folks want a good grant somewhere, and I'm looking about
for one."

"There aren't many good places now; most have been taken. They do say
that a man called Ethan Allen is round stirring up the people so that
he may get them their lands free."

"So I have heard."

"But some say that he wants the lands for himself."

"How is that?" asked Eben, innocently.

"Why, I have heard a man say--he came from Fort Ticonderoga--that if
Allen can get his way there will be a fight. Then he will surrender
and will recognize York, and as a reward will get the best farms."

"It's a----"

Eben was about to give the boy a piece of his mind, but checked himself
in time.

"It's a what?" asked the lad.

"Very unlikely story, I was about to say, but thought that I would not."

"Why?"

"Because a man who would think such a thing about Col. Allen is not
worth contradicting."

"Oh, that is it. So you believe in this man, Allen?"

"I do."

"So does father. He says that he will stick by him as long as he has a
hand to hold a gun."

"What is your father's name?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Only he might help me to find a good piece of farm land which I could
get by applying."

"So he might. Well, my father is Ezekiel Garvan--Old Zeke, they call
him round about. Glad to see you when you are near. See, that is our
house over yon, where the smoke is rising up from among the trees."

"And what is your name?" asked Eben.

"I am called Zeb; it is short for Zebedee. What is your name?"

Incautiously he answered, truthfully:

"Ebenezer Pike is my name."

The boys separated, and Eben returned to the camp, feeling pleased with
himself to think he had found a good friend, as he never doubted old
Zeke would be.

Zeb stood watching Eben for a time, and then he too returned home.

"My old dad used to blame me for listening, and used to say that little
pitchers had big ears, when anyone was there, just to prevent them
talking, but the big ears w