Page 22 - A Hero of Ticonderoga

As the first speaker planted one of the wire rods beside the fence, Jenkins
pulled up the last one stuck in the woods, at the same time shouting the

news back to the surveyor.

"Hold on, boy," the first speaker said, as Nathan jumped from the fence.
"You stay here till Mr. Felton comes up."

"I’m going home," Nathan answered boldly; "if Mr. Felton wants me he can
come there."

"You sassy young rascal," cried one of the men, who carried a gun,
bringing his weapon to a ready; "you stand where you be or I’ll--" and he

tapped the butt of his gun impressively.

"You wouldn’t dast to," Nathan gasped defiantly, but he went no further,
and stood at bay, grinding the soft mold under his naked heel while he cast
furtive glances at the intruders, till the remainder of the party came up. The

surveyor, impressed with the dignity of his position, maintained a haughty
bearing toward all the members of his party save one, a swarthy, thick-set,

low-browed man, whom he addressed as Mr. Graves.

"A fine clearing, indeed," said Mr. Felton when he came to the fence. "I

wonder what Yankee scoundrel has dared to so seize, hold and occupy the
lands of the Royal Colony of New York."

"Mayhap this younker can tell you, sir," said the man guarding the boy, and
lowering his gun as he spoke.

"Boy, what scoundrel has dared to steal this land and establish himself upon

it without leave or license of His Excellency, the Governor of New York?
Yes, and cut down the pine trees, especially reserved for the masting of His
Majesty’s navy," and he tapped the top log impressively.

"It’s holler, Mr. Felton," Jenkins suggested, satisfying himself of the fact by

a resonant thump of his axe.