Medford Historical Society Papers, Volume 30.

Bond. Minutemen of course, and ready in a minute, too, weren't they? Last August you mind how Gage sent the redcoats up to the powder house to take our powder?

Porter. I mind it well, and we men stood yonder, our hands on our hips, and watched them, perforce, while they took it away under our noses.

Bond. Took it away right out of Medford, didn't they, to Castle William—all they found there, anyhow?

Porter. And what they didn't find had taken wings, hadn't it?

Bond. Well, it flew away somewhere, but I guess it will fly home again today. And the redcoats will get it today—but in the powder-pans of our flintlocks with leaden bullets behind it. (Still distant sound of guns.) Hist, was that firing?

Porter. Some of our Medford powder, perchance. I wonder if our boys did fight!

Bond. Fight? I only wish I were as certain of the locks I've put on guns this morning. Know you (nudging him) where most of the locks came from?

Porter. I know where the gun-stocks came from—our wood-lots furnish them forth with a little labor, but where did all these volunteers get their locks?

Bond. From his gracious majesty, King George. Porter. How mean you?

Bond. Well, King George is none too generous to his redcoats. They are glad to get odd jobs about town to fill their pockets, and so when our lads slip up to the barracks with a bottle of good old Medford smuggled under the tails of their coats, there be many a lobster who has been willing to do trade for it with the lock of a gun.

Porter. A poor trade they'll find that today. I reckon many a poor lad will rue his bargain. (Fife and drum drawing nearer.)

Bond. Another sound of fife and drum. Yes, more minutemen down the Salem road.

Porter. 'Tis the boys from Malden. I know every man of them. I'll to them. (Enter Stephen Hall, limping, with cane.)

Bond. Ah, Master Hall, a word with you! Hall. What men are those?

Bond. Maiden men. They seem to hesitate, loathe to lose a chance to fight. If they go to Menotomy the king's troops may be already on the Charlestown highway or perhaps to Cambridge. (Sound of distant cannon.)

Hall. Whichever way they march back to the shelter of their boats, 'tis evident they are testing the mettle of our men with their cannon.

Bond. Ay, cannon, Master Hall. 'Tis that was troubling me, so that I left my work and came here. Where are our Medford guns, the seven cannon we brought out here in November hid in loads of hay and wood? Are they safe, or are these troops on their way to take them also?

Hall. They are safe, nor do I think that General Gage knows aught of them.

Bond. But suppose the British should send some men-of-war up the Mystic to Cradock bridge to help their soldiers in their retreat?

Hall. Know you, good smith, what Medford should have? Fireboats,¹