"O Arty, Arty!" whispered Dorothy. "They've come, and we mustn't tell."
The man advanced with a smile meant to be pleasant, but which was in reality so sinister that the children shrank with a sensation of fear.
"How are you, my little man? Picking berries, eh? And where do you live?" he asked.
"With mamma," answered Arthur promptly.
"And who is mamma? What is her name?"
"Mrs. Heath," said Arty.
"And don't you live with papa too? Where is papa?" the man asked.
Arthur hesitated an instant, and then out it came, and proudly too. "In the Continental army, sir."
"Ho! ho! and so we are a little rebel, are we?" laughed the man. "And who am I? Do you know?"
"Yes, sir; a British soldier."