"But we're not going to let him be wasted, are we Andy?" There was a cruel break in the girl's voice. "We'll do his work, won't we? We'll show the Britishers how we can repay, won't we, Andy?"
"Yes," breathed the boy, unable to turn his eyes from the noble, boyish face, that was lighted by the gleam of the one lamp; "we'll show them!"
"See, Andy" (Ruth had gone to a corner cup-board and brought forth a three-cornered cap), "this is Sam's; I found it in the bushes. Mother says I may have it." She placed it upon Andy's head. "It just fits!" she exclaimed. "If the time comes, Andy, you shall wear the cap. It will be proof that I trust you. You will help if you can, won't you? Promise" Andy."
"I promise, as God hears me, Ruth."
In the stillness the vow sounded awesome. The two clasped hands. All the sting was gone. A great resolve to be ready to dare and die made Andy strong and happy.
"Good-by, Ruth."
"Good-by, Andy, lad."
Out into the still night the boy passed. On the way back he saw Mrs. White, but he hid beneath a bush until she had gone by. He reached home, found the door barred, and so painfully reached his room by the aid of the friendly vine.