“To be sure. There is no one I would trust farther—unless, indeed, it were Ezra,” and he laid his hand upon the lad’s shoulder.
“Well,” laughed Revere, “I’ll not be jealous of him, for I know that he’s served both the cause and yourself well. He’s only a lad, but many men might well be proud of the work he’s done for the colonies!”
“I think,” here spoke Ezra, “that you are both inclined to overestimate anything that I have done. Every one has his opportunities, and it is only his duty that he should accept them as they come to him.”
They were still talking in this strain, and Nat Brewster was listening wonderingly, when the porter, who was lingering in the room, touched him upon the arm.
“Are you Mr. Brewster?” he asked.
“Yes,” replied Nat.
“There is a boy been asking for you—rather an odd sort. He’s outside. Shall I call him in?”
The porter’s words at once suggested the Porcupine to Nat.
“But what in the world is he doing here?” he thought. Then to the man he said: “I’ll go out to him.”
As he turned away from the group in the coffee-room he noted that the hand of Samuel Adams still rested upon Ezra Prentiss’ shoulder. The whole attitude of the statesman and that of Paul Revere were of perfect trust and confidence in the boy; apparently they would not hesitate to place their most cherished projects in his keeping.