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To give him a message—of a rather personal nature. It’s from . . oh . . his mother,” you say as two Green Mountain Boys help you stand. “Your tale’s nonsense,” Arnold sneers. ” Allen slaps you hard on the back, so hard you almost fall down again. “Hah? See the truth of the matter? ” “One more thing,” says Arnold, ignoring Allen’s insolence. ” “To have a better view of the action,” you reply. ” Suddenly, much to your surprise, Arnold throws back his head and laughs uproariously. There’s no malice in his voice.
Somewhere in Pennsylvania. ” You nod, and the two of you walk in silence the remainder of the way toward the road, which is strewn with the dead, unconscious, and wounded. It’s not a pretty sight. “Well, I’ve got some relatives down the road a piece,” you say, heading back toward Hartwell’s Tavern. ” Josh waves good-bye, then trots across the bridge toward the rest 46 of the rebel forces pursuing the British. You watch him disappear around a bend. No one can see you now. This is a good time to jump.
My countrymen and I won’t live without our rights as Englishmen. We have the right to govern ourselves. ” You tell him. ” “Shutesbury, Joshua E. Friends call me Josh,” he says in a friendly tone. ” you ask. ” “Till it’s over, I suppose. ” He smiles and blushes. “My fiancée’s pa has a farm outside Wellesley. ” Suddenly his eyes grow suspicious. ” “Sorry. I didn’t mean to,” you stammer. ” Josh nods to himself. ” You’re shocked, though you try to hide it. ” “My uncle fired the first shot—at Fort William and Mary.