Page 25 - A Hero of Ticonderoga

"Oh, yes; only yesterday father told about Ethan Allen’s throwing the
Yorker’s millstones over the Great Falls at New Haven."

"Right and true! Well, I am Ethan Allen." As he gave his name in a

deep-toned voice of proud assurance, it seemed in itself a strong host.
"Your father sent you with that twig to say there’s trouble at Beeman’s,
didn’t he?"

Nathan looked up in wonder, admiration, and gladness, and then, with the

instinctive, unreasoned confidence that the famous chieftain of the Grants
was wont to inspire, told unreservedly his father’s troubles and directions.
When Allen had heard it, he wheeled his horse beside the nearest stump

and bade Nathan mount behind him.

"My horse’s feet will help you make your rounds quicker than yours, my
man. We’ve no time to lose, for there’s no telling what those scoundrels
may be at. Eight Yorkers! Well, we’ll soon raise good men enough to make

short work of them."

Nathan mounted nimbly to his assigned place, and, clasping as far as he
could the ample waist of his new friend, was borne along the road at a
speed that soon brought them to the log house of the Newtons. A man of

the herculean mould so common to the early Vermonters came out of the
house to meet the comers, with an expression of pleased surprise on his

good-humored face.

"Why, colonel, we wa’n’t expectin’ on you so soon, but we hain’t no less

glad to see you. ’Light and come in. Mother’ll hev potluck ready to rights.
Why, is that the Beeman boy stickin’ on behind you? Anything the matter

over to Beeman’s?"

"No, we can’t ’light," Allen replied; and then, looking down over his

shoulder, "Do your errand, my boy, and we’ll push on."

Nathan held out the carefully kept sprig of evergreen and repeated his
message.