“O dear! what shall we do?” whispered Becca, all in a shiver of cold and excitement.
“Let’s go and speak to him. Maybe it is our hospital man,” said Jack, with a great appearance of courage.
The two children started, hand in hand, and approached the soldier so quietly that he did not hear the sound of their coming.
As they went, Becca squeezed her brother’s fingers and pointing to the snow over which they walked, whispered the word “Blood!”
“From his feet,” responded Jack, shutting his teeth tightly together.
Yes, there it lay in bright drops on the glistening snow, showing where the feet of the patriot had trod. The children stood still when they were come near to the tree. At the instant their mother appeared in the kitchen doorway and called “Jack!”
The ragged soldier of the United American States lost his courage at the instant and began to retire in confusion; but Becca summoned him to “Wait a minute!” He waited.
“Did you want one of my turkeys?” she asked.
“I was going to steal one, to save my brother’s life,” he answered.
“Is he only a boy, and has he light hair and blue eyes, and does he lie on the wet ground?”