“Hudson!” Jeanne exclaimed, her voice shrill with excitement. “And where’s your home?”
Jim shook his head. “I haven’t any home now except with Colonel Clark. I used to live in Kentucky.”
“Kentucky, you say. I wonder if you—”
The roar of cannon from Fort Sackville cut off her words. Jim and Willie jumped up. “Thank you, ma’am, for the good dinner. We can fight better now,” Jim said, as they started out the door.
“When the fighting’s over, come back here, Jim. Come back for sure.”
“All right,” Jim replied, “if I’m alive.”
The boys made their way back to Jim’s post and found it in the thick of the fighting. American soldiers were pouring the hottest fire possible into the fort.
“Look, Willie,” Jim said as he got his rifle ready, “look at those gaps in the stockade.”
Just then the British poked an artillery piece out of a porthole, while the Americans sent a shower of well-directed balls into it.
“Hurrah!” cried Willie, “got some British that time.”