“I guess I’ll be the only one who won’t shine at all,” said Don. “I’m just a poor, plain little infantry soldier! A lieutenant on foot doesn’t show up much.”
“I thought that Gates’ house looked like a very old one when we were in it,” said Don. “But I never guessed that it had such a history. Now that we know the history we can account for the huge doors, the massive bolts and the wide, spreading staircase.”
An account in the newspaper interested the boys. It related how, at a time when the British raided Portville, the Gannon family took their silver plate and buried it out in the garden. The British had stolen everything in sight, but the silver was later dug up by the members of the family and saved.
“I’d like to see the spot where it was buried, sometime,” said Terry. “That must have been an interesting sight. Imagine the men out in the garden in the dead of night, burying the boxes of silver plate!”
Parade orders were given two days before Washington’s Birthday and the cadets found themselves in for a busy time. Dress uniforms were brought out and cleaned, swords polished and bayonets rubbed down. Rifles were inspected and the horses well groomed, for the colonel was anxious for his boys to give a good account of themselves.
Good fortune fell to Jim. As an officer he had received a post inside the historic house. In high spirits he told Don and Terry of his good fortune.
“Nice going, kid!” approved Don, generously. “Where is your post to be?”
Jim made a wry face. “I’m not so sure that the post is a good one, for I am stationed at the back door. I won’t be able to see much of what goes on there, but at least I’ll be in the house.”
“Maybe we’re luckier than you are, at that,” chuckled the red-headed boy. “Those of us who are not to be on post in the house will be able to roam around the town, for the colonel has given us full liberty on that day. But just the same, I think I’d rather be in the house.”
“So should I,” nodded Don. “At any rate, keep your eyes open, Jim. There is no telling what you may see.”