rare thoughtfulness which made him his mother's right-hand man.
"But you like not to stay here alone," began Sally doubtfully, longing to go, yet hating to be selfish.
Zenas squared his shoulders in the dark. "Go ye, Sally! And ask Captain Littell to send aid for this man. I will await ye here!" he said sturdily.
Sally, despite her knowledge of her good fortune, looked rather timidly around the tap room of the Rising Sun Tavern when, some moments later, she lifted the latch and pushed open the door. Summoning her courage, however, she advanced toward the table around which the militiamen had gathered. It was Captain Littell who, regarding her smiling face from beneath frowning, puzzled brows, spoke grimly.
"Whence came ye, young mistress? And why did ye run away?"
Sally smiled more confidently than she felt. "'Twould take o'erlong to tell ye, sir," she answered, in a hurried manner. "I returned to tell ye that the sentry. Master Crane, be lying, dangerously wounded, down by the river edge and—and—that the saddlebags be found!"
"Crane wounded!"
"How happened it, young maid?"
"The saddlebags found! Ye mean—the ones wi' the bullets therein?"
