“Make haste, Tony, and bring the herbs before it grows any darker,� continued his aunt. “I never like to go up garret with a light; it’s dangerous business. I am worried and nervous, and I want a bowl of hot herb tea.�
Tony stopped, his thumb on the latch. “What is it that worries you so?� he asked in his sweet, sympathetic voice.
“A thousand things, child, you wouldn’t understand if I told you—the dread of what’s coming—the loss of property and friends—life itself perhaps. But we’ll hope for the best. The king may yet repent and try to do what is right by us. But we don’t know—we don’t know.�
It was the December of 1774, five months before Lexington, the first battle of the American Revolution. Throughout the colonies there was a growing feeling of uneasiness and indignation. The colonists were too much attached to the mother country to wish for war. Morning and night they prayed that God would show them some peaceful way out of the trouble. But the king had taken away so many of their rights and laid taxes so heavy and unjust upon them that it began to look as if the only thing to do was to fight him. The people of New Hampshire, where Larry and Tony lived, were especially excited and alarmed, for they were so near Boston that they sympathized heartily with that much-wronged city which seemed to have been singled out as a mark for special spite.
Tony passed through the cold hall and upstairs, and opening the garret door stumbled hastily to the top step. As he reached the landing his heart gave a sudden thump. He fancied he heard a noise. He stood listening, but there was not a sound. “I guess it was the branches of the big elm scraping against the roof,� he thought. Mustering his courage he darted by the row of clothes and was just reaching up for the herbs when a figure suddenly stepped from behind the chimney.
“Oh!� gasped the frightened boy, stumbling back over the big chest and bumping his head with a clatter against the dreaded sword and tomahawk. Larry’s arm raised him to his feet and Larry’s bright face bent over him.
“Why, Tony! how little it takes to scare you! I was up here and heard some one coming and thought it one of the men and that I’d have some fun with him. See!� and Larry took down the rusty tomahawk and gave a whoop that made the rafters ring, and flourished the old relic in a way that caused Tony’s curly hair to stand on end. “This isn’t such a terrible thing, after all—it can’t hurt you.�
He got the herbs for his young brother and as he did so, happened to look out of the window. “Whew!� he whistled softly, “there are two men going into the meeting-house. And how queerly they act, looking all around as if they were afraid some one would see them.�
“Oh, Larry! can’t you run up and see if Aunt Mercy’s spectacles are in the pew? She thinks she left them there last Sunday.�
“All right! you take the herbs downstairs and I will.�