Don fell back a pace and looked around him.
“I’m sorry——” the lieutenant was saying, when a door opened, and a tall figure stepped into the hall.
Like a flash the lieutenant and several other officers who were standing near by snapped to attention. It was Washington himself that was walking quietly toward the entrance. Don gulped once, and then before he knew what he was doing he had exclaimed:
“Sir—General Washington!”
The general turned, and Don pulled his slip of paper from his pocket and handed it to him. “This is a list of goods that were in our cellar all during the occupation,” he said. “My uncle, Capt. David Hollis, gave them to me for keeping the Redcoats from getting them. I want to give them to our army.”
Washington glanced at the paper—he seemed to read everything on it in a single glance—and then turned to the boy. “The army will be very grateful to have these supplies,” he said. “I thank you, my boy. You are a true patriot.”
Don colored to the roots of his hair as he watched the general hand the paper to the lieutenant and then turn and smile and pass into the street.
“Donald!” cried Aunt Martha as Don burst noisily into the room. “What’s the matter?”
“I gave the supplies to Washington!” cried Don. “I saw him, Aunt Martha, and he said the army would be glad to get them. You know they need stuff for uniforms, and especially powder.”
“Good for you, Donald! It’s the best thing you could have done with them.”