The man grunted an unwilling assent, and Mr. Freeman sprang back into the chaise and drove Lady under a rough shelter in the rear of the house.
“Don’t go in the house, will you, father?” whispered Rose; for the man had opened a back door leading into the shed and was regarding his undesired guests with suspicious eyes.
“How did you happen to come here?” he asked gruffly. “This road don’t lead nowheres.”
“My horse turned in from the main road very suddenly,” explained Mr. Freeman. “We had no plan except to get on to Sandwich as fast as possible.”
“Going far?” questioned the man.
“We are on our way to Boston,” answered Mr. Freeman.
“Guess the English are going to give the Yankees a lesson even if they couldn’t hold Boston!” said the man with a smile, as if he would be glad to know his words would come true.
“I think not, sir,” answered Mr. Freeman sharply; “and a Cape Cod man ought to be the last to say such a thing.”
“You’re not a Tory, then?” exclaimed the man eagerly. “Get right out of that chaise and come in. These your girls? Let me help you out, missy,” and he came toward the carriage.