“Where are your dispatches?” leaped from the General’s lips, his face shining.
“Why—why, I haven’t any, but it’s all true, sir,” faltered the boy.
“How did you find it out?”
“I was right there, sir. Don’t you remember me? I help Bellman Grey take care of the State House at Philadelphia, and I run on errands for the Congress folks, too, sometimes.”
“Did Congress send you on this errand?”
“No, General Washington; I can’t tell a lie, I came myself.”
“How did you know me?”
Blue-Eyed Boy was ready to cry now. To be sure he was sturdy and strong, and nearly fourteen, too; but to be doubted, after all his long, tiresome journey, was hard. However, he winked once or twice violently, and then he looked his very soul into the General’s face, and said: “Why, 126 I saw you every day you went to Congress, only a month ago, I did.”
“I believe you, my lad. Get your horse and follow me.”
Blue-Eyed Boy followed on, and waited in camp until the tardy despatches came in on Tuesday morning, confirming every word that he had spoken.