It was a long way from the green to the cabin that Peter called “home.”
He hurried home and lifted the latch, and met his uncle, who was scowling.
“What has happened now?” said the latter, seeing Peter had been running.
“A shot has been fired on the green.”
“What, on Lebanon green?” gasped the old man in alarm.
“No, on Lexington green.”
“That doesn’t matter. Lexington green is so far off. Who fired the shot? The regulars,” he added.
“The young men at Lebanon are all enlisting. I wish I were old enough to go!”
“For what?”