The Young Continentals at Lexington
that fixes those taxes.”

Stephen Comegies gazed at the speaker in horror. That a man should cherish such sentiments and still be permitted at large filled him with wondering alarm. For a moment he was unable to speak; then, recovering, he burst out:

“This is not the first time I have heard treason from you, Robert Cooper; and the day is fast coming when you shall rue having[14] spoken it.” There was a pause, then he resumed with a harsh laugh, “They will demand, will they? And in a voice that will not be mistaken, eh? Well, take care! It is easy to send out a summons to draw a rebel pack together, but it is not always so easy to actually assemble them.”

[14]

Mr. Cooper gazed steadfastly into the deeply-lined face of the old Tory; there was something in the countenance threatening and sombre, and somehow it gave out an impression of hidden joy at some grim joke. Mr. Cooper was about to reply, but old Stephen gripped his staff firmly and moved a step or two on his way. Then he paused and turned his head.

“Don’t forget what I have said,” added he, with another cackle of laughter, “and don’t say you were taken unawares.”

Then he stumped away upon his gouty legs, the iron-shod staff ringing upon the hard road, his big gray head bent and his lips muttering their hatred of all the king’s enemies.

“He seems to be in a high temper this morning,” laughed Ben, who had listened[15] with amusement to the Tory’s words. “But he’s always crying out against something.”

[15]

Mr. Cooper shook his head.

“I’m afraid,” said he, “that the coming struggle will see the Tories one of our greatest sources of vexation.”

Ben looked at his father in surprise.

“The coming struggle,” repeated he. “Do you actually believe that it will come to that, father?”

Mr. Cooper resumed his seat upon the bench and opened the book once more. It was easy to see that his fears were of the worst, but that he had no desire to impart them to his son.

“All this controversy is a struggle,” he said. “And as time draws on, it will grow more bitter.”

“But,” queried Ben, his face alight with anticipation, “do you think it will end in blows being 
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