“Can it be,” said Ezra, “that Washington of Virginia has been chosen commander-in-chief by the Continental Congress!”
“If he has,” replied Nat Brewster, all excitement, “they have done excellently for the colonies. There is no nobler man in all America; and from all accounts, he is a born soldier.”
The small boy disappeared into the house while they were speaking; but the small dog remained, sniffing suspiciously and occasionally growling for them to keep their distance. And while they were smiling at the self-importance of the little beast, there came a full-toned voice saying:
“I had not thought, Mr. Clark, to see so fine a farm in the Jerseys. It is splendid. And as I come from Virginia, where the plantations approach the extent of principalities, I may say that I am a judge.”
There were footsteps upon the wide verandah which ran about the house; and turning in the direction of the sound, the boys saw a party of gentlemen. Nat’s eyes instantly sought out the speaker, and at a glance he recognized the tall, strong frame and the lofty face.
And almost at the same moment the eyes of the great Virginian caught sight of the boy.
“Hah!” cried he, taking a step forward, “here is some one I think I know, Mr. Clark.”
“They are strangers to me, general,” spoke the rich farmer, staring at the boys. “Travelers perhaps, young gentlemen?” addressing them.
“On our way to Philadelphia,” said Ezra, as Nat stepped upon the verandah and grasped the cordially extended hand of Washington.
Nat had done Washington a splendid service just outside of Philadelphia some ten months before, and as the Virginian seldom forgot a face, and never a service, his hand grasp was warm and firm.