The Boys of Old Monmouth Part 12

If Peter had gone to the door, he would have discovered that Barzilla had not departed to go to his own house, but that after he had entered the road he had turned quickly and started in the direction in which the Navesink lay. But as Peter did not rise from his seat, he missed all that, and, besides, in all probability he would only have been puzzled by his neighbor's actions and unable to account for the haste with which he had made the change.

Peter prepared his breakfast, and then waited for the coming of Indian John. The minutes pa.s.sed, but the Indian did not put in an appearance, and the lad began to suspect that he would not return. At last, when the sun had appeared, his suspicions pa.s.sed into certainty, and, resolving to wait for him no longer, he closed the house and started resolutely on the path which led down to the bank of the Navesink, where he kept his little skiff concealed.

He soon arrived at the familiar place, and, after taking his oars from their hiding-place on the bank, pushed the little boat out into the stream and began to row. The heat of the morning soon began to make itself felt, but Peter did not cease from his labors. He was thinking of his father and where he might then be. He was hoping that he would be retained and sent to New York as a prisoner, for Little Peter was well aware of the value of the reward which was offered for every prisoner taken; but Fenton, eager as he was for money, was not likely to incur any unnecessary risk for himself by keeping any one near him who might prove to be a source of danger. And Little Peter knew that his father, especially after the recent events, was not likely to be quiet. Of what might then occur, the lad hardly dared to think. He only knew that what he was to do must be done quickly, if it was to avail, and he rowed on and on without once stopping for rest.

He had covered about half the distance he was to go, when he heard a hail from down the river. Hastily turning about at the unexpected summons, he saw a little cat-boat slowly coming up the river, and now not many yards away.

"It's Benzeor Osburn," said Peter to himself, as he obtained a glimpse of the man at the helm. "But who's that with him? It's Jacob Van Note.

Yes, and that's Barzilla Giberson, too. What in the world"--

His meditations were interrupted by Benzeor's hail, "Where ye bound this mornin', Little Peter? There's to be no lookout to-day, is there?"

"I haven't heard of any," replied Peter, looking at Barzilla and striving to understand how it was that the man who had so recently left his house could now be with Benzeor sailing up the Navesink.

"I came down here after I left you," said Barzilla, as if he felt that he must reply to the question expressed in Peter's manner, "and I fell in with Benzeor, so I stopped and came back to tell him all about the doin's that have been goin' on since he went away. Benzeor's been gone from home two days and more, ye know."

"Has he?" replied Peter. "No. I didn't know. Benzeor, the children are at your house. Sarah said I could leave them there and she'd look after them. If it isn't all right, I'll take them away as soon as I come back."

"It's all right. In course it's all right. Barzilla here has been tellin' me about your troubles. It's hard, Peter, but then ye know that lots of people have been served the same way. 'Misery loves company,' ye know."

As Peter made no reply, Benzeor quickly began to talk again, too quickly the lad might have perceived, if he had not been so filled with his own thoughts that all else seemed to escape his observation. "Barzilla tells me as how ye're goin' down to Refugee Town to look up yer pop. Is that so?"

"Yes."

"Well, I'm tellin' ye it won't do any good. He isn't there--leastwise, that is, I don't believe he's there. In course I don't know anything about it, but it stands to reason he isn't. Ye'd better let me take yer skiff in tow, as I've done with Barzilla's, and come along back with us."

"I think I'll go on. If I don't find him there I can report to Captain Dennis. Perhaps he'll be able to help me a bit, if it's not too late."

Captain Dennis was in command of the local militia, and he and his men already had had several skirmishes with the pine robbers. Indeed, the militia had been enrolled with the very purpose of protecting the scattered homes from the inroads of the outlaws and refugees. Thus far, however, their efforts had not met with a very marked success.

Peter did not observe the scowl which crept over Benzeor's face at the mention of the name of Captain Dennis. "Have it your own way then," said the man gruffly. "They say there's no fool like an old fool, but for downright foolishness give me the young fool every time. I'm tellin' ye that ye won't find yer pop down at Refugee Town, but ye'll have to find it out for yerself, I suppose."

Surprised as Peter was at the abrupt change in Benzeor's manner, his own purpose was not changed, and without replying he picked up his oars and began to row again. He could see the men in earnest conversation as he drew away from them, but it had not yet entered his thoughts that anything could be wrong with them. He was puzzled to account for Barzilla's unexpected presence, but his offer to look after his home in his absence was still fresh in his mind, and left no room for suspicion.

As for Benzeor, Little Peter knew that he was considered as a strange man,--"odd," the country people termed it,--and he gave little heed to him or his words. His one purpose now was to go to Refugee Town. He had but little fear of meeting the men who had a.s.sembled there, although he knew they were all desperate and reckless. They would not harm him, he thought, and it was possible that he might find his father there, or learn of his whereabouts. Just what he would do if he should find him, he did not know. In any event, he would be with him again, and if he was to be sent as a prisoner to the sugar-house in New York, or to the Whitby or the Jersey, at least his captivity might be shared.

Accordingly, Little Peter rowed steadily forward and in the course of an hour arrived at the mouth of the Navesink. Then he landed and hauled his skiff up on the sh.o.r.e, striving to conceal it among the bushes which grew there. It was only a mile now across the sandy strip to the sh.o.r.e of the ocean, and the lad began to walk rapidly. Refugee Town was not far away, and the end of his journey would soon be gained.

The heat of the sun was now intense. Across the sands he could see eddies in the heated air, and he felt as if he were breathing the blasts from an oven. His face was streaming with perspiration, while the touch of the sand beneath his feet seemed almost as if it would blister them.

He soon arrived at a place from which he could look out upon the ocean, and it was with a sigh of relief he felt its first cool breath upon his face. Refugee Town now was not far away, so he began to run.

He stopped as he saw two gunboats riding at anchor about a quarter of a mile out from the sh.o.r.e. What could it all mean? They were British vessels, their flags disclosed that; but what was their purpose in casting their anchors there?

He was upon the beach now, and stopped for a moment to gaze at the graceful vessels. He thought he could almost make out the figures of the sailors on the deck. And a little boat was just approaching the larger of the gunboats. Doubtless it had been ash.o.r.e and was now returning.

"How!"

Peter turned suddenly as he heard the exclamation, and saw Indian John standing before him. His alarm subsided as he recognized his friend, and he said reprovingly, "I thought you were going to go with me this morning, John. Why didn't you?"

"John been. Go to 'Gee Town. No fader there."

"What, my father isn't there? Are you sure, John?"

The Indian made no reply, evidently considering his first words sufficient. He was gazing intently at the boats in the distance, and Little Peter almost unconsciously turned and followed his look. At first he could discover nothing to indicate what had interested his companion; but he soon saw that the little boat, which he had thought was returning to the gunboat, was coming to the sh.o.r.e. Startled by the sight, he was about to inquire of John whether he knew anything concerning the vessels, when he heard a shout.

At a distance of a hundred yards up the beach he saw a motley crowd approaching. Negroes and poorly clad men were among them, and the appearance of all revealed that they were doubtless from Refugee Town.

Their own presence was discovered at the same time, and a shout greeted them.

"Come!" said Indian John quickly; and in an instant Little Peter obeyed, and both were running swiftly over the sand along the beach.

Their flight was greeted by another shout from the men behind them, and one or two guns were discharged, but the bullets pa.s.sed harmlessly over the heads of the fugitives. One glance, however, showed Peter that some of the men had started in pursuit.

"They're after us, John!" he said in a low voice to his companion.

Instantly increasing their efforts, they sped swiftly on in their flight, but the shouts, which were now redoubled, betrayed that the pursuit had not been abandoned. On and on ran pursuers and pursued, while at intervals a gun was discharged and the calls and shouts could be distinctly heard.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "THEY'RE AFTER US, JOHN!"]

For a half mile the flight had continued, and Peter was beginning to feel that he could go no farther. The hot air of the summer morning, the burning sand beneath his feet, as well as the weariness arising from his previous exertions, combined to sap his strength. His breath was coming in gasps now, and down his face the perspiration was pouring in streams. He felt that he could go no farther.

Another glance behind him showed that the men had not abandoned the pursuit. A half dozen of them were still running swiftly along the beach, and to Little Peter it seemed as if they were gaining upon him.

CHAPTER XII

BATHSHEBA'S FEAST

INDIAN JOHN had been slightly changing the direction in which they were running, although Little Peter had not perceived the change. At first they had kept close to the water's edge, and at times the creeping tide had rolled up to their feet. As his companion had gradually drawn closer to the higher ridge which extended somewhat farther back from the beach, Peter had thought nothing of the slight divergence, except that the Indian was desirous of keeping a little farther from the water.

Along this ridge in advance of him, Peter saw that thick bushes and stunted trees were growing, and he thought of the possibility of finding some hiding-place there; but he was hardly prepared for the change which Indian John then made. They had just pa.s.sed a bend in the ridge which shut out the view of their pursuers, and come to a little gully which the winter storms had in the course of many years cut deep into the bank. Here Indian John turned sharply, and, bidding his companion follow him, turned directly into the woods, which extended from the sh.o.r.e far back into the adjoining country.

Little Peter instantly followed, but they had not gone many yards before they came suddenly upon a wigwam in the midst of the forest. Indian John stopped, and, after a few hurried words with the Indian who was standing near and who had silently watched the approaching fugitives, beckoned for Peter to follow him, and both entered the conical shaped dwelling and threw themselves upon the ground.

The lad was so thankful for the respite, and was so nearly exhausted by his efforts, that for a time he said nothing, being only too glad of an opportunity to rest. Every moment he expected to hear the voices of their pursuers, and more than once was on the point of starting forth from the hut and resuming his flight, so certain was he that the men had discovered the hiding-place.

After a time he was positive that he was not deceived. He could hear the voices of men in conversation with the Indians, and all of his fears returned. His companion placed his hand upon the arm of the trembling lad, and Peter waited, listening intently, and fearful every moment that some one would enter the hut and summon them to come forth.

The conversation lasted several minutes, and then abruptly ceased. Peter could not determine whether the strangers had departed or not; but he waited anxiously and did not speak.

The moments slowly pa.s.sed and his suspense increased. It seemed to him that he must escape from the place in which he was concealed. The very air was strangely oppressive, and the ignorance as to what was going on outside the wigwam increased the anxiety of the frightened boy.

He did not know where he was, nor who were the people whose abode Indian John had so unceremoniously entered. No voice within or without the hut could now be heard, and the silence itself added to his alarm.