"Poor old soul!" ejaculated the little woman, her soft white
curls in disorder and the pink color rising from her cheeks to
her fair forehead, as she bent to help Joe drag the box beneath
the rafter's edge.

"Now, Joe," she said. "we'll heap nubbins over it, and if the
soldiers want corn they'll take good ears and never think of
touching poor nubbins"; so they fell to work throwing corn over
the red chest, until it was completely concealed from view.

Then he sprang to the high-up-window ledge in the point of the
roof and took one glance out. "Oh, I see them, the Red- coats.
True's I live, there go the militia UP THE HILL. I thought they
was going to stand and defend. Shame on 'em, I say." Jumping
down and crying back to Mother Moulton, "I'm going to stand by
the minute men," he went down, three steps at a leap, and nearly
overturned Uncle John on the stairs, who, with many groans was
trying to get to the defense of his strong box.

"What did you help her for, you scamp," he demanded of Joe,
flourishing his staff unpleasantly near the lad's head.

" 'Cause she asked me to, and couldn't do it alone," returned
Joe, dodging the stick and disappearing from the scene, at the
very moment Martha Moulton encountered Uncle John.

"Your strong box is safe under nubbins in the garret, unless the
house burns down, and now that you are up here, you had better
stay," she added soothingly, as she hastened by him to reach the
kitchen below.