“We’d surely find ourselves in hot water if they happened to learn that it’s there,” said Don. “Oh, how I hate ’em all!” he cried impulsively.
The next morning when the two soldiers came with all their equipment Don and his aunt got a surprise that for Don at least was not altogether unpleasant. One of the Redcoats was Private Harry Hawkins!
He nodded and smiled at Don as he and his comrade entered the house and were shown up-stairs.
The man who was with him, a short, dark-haired fellow, stopped at the door of Aunt Martha’s room. “This is it, Hawkins,” he said. “The big room on the front, the sergeant-major said, and a fine room it is. We’re in luck, you and I.”
Hawkins looked at Aunt Martha and, observing the troubled expression in her eyes, said, “Is this the room you want us to occupy?”
“No, it isn’t,” she replied. “That’s my room, and the one across the hall is my nephew’s. Next to his is the room I’d hoped you would occupy—since it seems you’ve got to occupy a room of some sort.”
“That’s the room we’ll have, then,” said Hawkins promptly and carried his equipment into it.
But his companion did not follow him; he stood looking into the big room.
“Come on, Snell,” said Hawkins, laughing. “The other room is plenty big enough. Anyone would think you were six feet, five, instead of five feet, six.”
Grumbling, the fellow turned away reluctantly and entered the room that Aunt Martha had made ready for them.