The Boys of Old Monmouth Part 30

Accordingly, Little Peter ran eagerly forward, hoping to overtake Ted before he should arrive at Benzeor's house, which now was not more than two miles away. Long before he came within sight of the place, he discovered Ted and his steed in advance of him, and from their motionless att.i.tude he quickly concluded that Jeshurun had been seized with another attack of obstinacy.

His surmise proved to be correct, and as he came nearer he beheld Ted seated by the roadside holding Jeshurun's bridle in his hand, and apparently waiting patiently for the time when the little beast should decide to continue his journey.

"I'm glad to see you, lad," remarked Ted, as Little Peter approached. "I left you rather suddenly back there, but when Jesh makes up his mind to start, it's time for me to go, too, and I can't always stop to say good-by to my friends. It's easier than walkin', though, but I wish I knew some way to fix the little rascal. I've been thinkin' as how, if Jeshurun kicked when he waxed fat, it might be that if he waxed thin, the kickin' would go, too, along with the fatness. I say, Little Peter, I want to ask ye a question."

"All right, Ted, go ahead," replied Little Peter, as he fanned his dripping face with his hat and took a seat beside his companion.

"In your opinion," said Ted soberly, "is the oyster a wild animal, or a tame one?"

"What?"

"Is the oyster a wild animal or a tame one? Maybe you don't think he's an animal at all, only just an insect; but my opinion is that he's an animal, and what I'd like to know is whether he's wild or tame."

"He isn't savage, anyway," remarked Little Peter demurely.

"I'm not talkin' about whether he's savage or not, but whether he's wild or tame. That's been a-botherin' me a good bit, and I just can't find any answer. Whoa! Whoa there, Jesh! What's the matter with ye? If ye want to start on, I'm your man." These last remarks were directed at the mule, which had begun to display some of the qualities of the famous character for whom he had been named; but his owner's words served to calm him, and Jeshurun soon stood in such an abject att.i.tude that, to one who was not familiar with his ways, wickedness and kicking would never have been suspected of him.

"Maybe the oyster's a bird more than he is an insect," said Little Peter. "When his sh.e.l.l is spread out it looks something like wings."

"No, he isn't a bird, he's a animal," said Ted, "and what I want to know is whether he's a tame or a wild one."

"What do you want to know for?"

"Why, the way of it is this: Some time ago I planted an oyster-bed off the mouth of the river, and the first thing I knew my neighbors was a-helpin' themselves to it. When I said I didn't like that very much, and those oysters was mine, all the men did was to laugh. Yes, sir, jest laughed," repeated Ted, as if he felt aggrieved at the levity of his neighbors. "Then, they went on to tell me that I couldn't plant oysters, same as I did 'taties and things in my garden. Oysters was wild things and belonged to anybody that found them, jest the same as turtles and clams and wild geese did. I've been a-puzzlin' my head a good deal over it, and I can't make it out. I planted them oysters for Sallie,--she's my wife, ye know,--and as long as she had all she wanted of 'em, I didn't care how much the neighbors helped themselves; but when it comes to sayin' that them oysters I planted don't belong to me, but any one can go and take all he wants, jest as if they was clams, or gooseberries, or--or--or--salt.w.a.ter, I don't know what to do about it.

What do you think, Little Peter?" he added anxiously.

"I don't know; I never thought of it before."

Absurd as the question appears to us, it was far from being so to the people of Old Monmouth in the times of which we are writing. So warm had the discussion become that it was soon after carried into the courts, and in 1808 a case was tried before the supreme court, but no definite decision was gained. In 1821 another famous trial was held, and finally in 1858 the supreme court decided that oysters were both tame and wild. Where they had grown naturally and without being planted, they were to be considered as wild and the property of any one who chose to take them; but where they had been planted, and there was no natural growth, the oysters were "tame" and the property of the one who had made the bed. Even after that decision there was trouble for a long time in Old Monmouth over the question, although to-day it is generally accepted that a man may own oysters as he does other animals.

"I'm sorry ye can't help me," said Ted.

"So am I, but I'm not thinking of oysters just now. I want to go up to Benzeor Osburn's more than anything else."

"I'm with ye. We're so near, maybe Jeshurun will be willing to go, if he doesn't have to carry me on his back. I'll try him and see."

To the surprise of both, Jeshurun appeared to be willing to resume the journey and obediently followed Ted, who led him by the bridle rein which he slipped over the mule's head.

In this wise they all walked on, but as they came nearer to the end of their journey, conversation ceased. Little Peter was thinking of the children and trying to devise some plan by which he might care for them.

What his companion's thoughts were did not appear, but the expression upon his face had undergone a change, and from the occasional word he dropped, which sounded very like "Hangin' Sallies," the lad thought he knew what was going on in Ted's mind. What would occur if Benzeor should be found at his home, Little Peter could not determine; but he felt a.s.sured from Ted's manner that this time his neighbor would not escape so easily as he had when the angry man had given him his involuntary bath in the waters of the Shrewsbury River.

However, there was a deal of comfort for the lad in the company of his powerful friend; and as Benzeor's little house now appeared in the distance, he was more and more rejoiced that he was not compelled to approach it alone. If Indian John's words were correct, Benzeor was not there now; but it was more than possible that John had been mistaken, or that the man had returned since his visit in the early morning.

These possibilities were sufficiently strong to increase Little Peter's excitement, and when they turned into the lane which led up to the house his heart was beating rapidly and his breathing was hard and fast. As he glanced toward the place, he suddenly discovered some children playing in the yard and instantly recognized two of them as his own little brothers.

The children, then, were safe; and with a sigh of relief he turned to his companion and said, "There are my little brothers! They're all right, and so far it looks better."

"Hangin' Sallies!" muttered Ted; and Little Peter said no more, as he perceived that his companion's rage over the treatment his wife had received had returned with increased force.

Suddenly out from the barn beyond the house started two men on horseback, riding directly down the lane toward them. Startled and perplexed by the sight, both Little Peter and Ted stopped and waited for the men to approach. If the lad had been alone he would instantly have turned and fled without waiting to see who the strangers were; but Ted's presence restrained him, and although he was thoroughly alarmed, he waited with his companion.

As the hors.e.m.e.n came nearer he discovered that they were Barzilla Giberson and Jacob Vannote, the two men who had been with Tom and Benzeor on their voyage to New York just before Tom's departure from his foster-father's home. Quickly recalling what Tom had reported of their conversation at that time, the sight of them now did not tend to allay his fears; but Ted's presence was a source of comfort, and, although he was trembling in his excitement, he did not speak.

Barzilla instantly stopped his horse as he recognized Little Peter, and, leaning forward on his horse's neck as he spoke, said, "Where's Benzeor?"

"I don't know," replied Little Peter. "Isn't he here?"

"No, he isn't here. He came back last night, but he's gone again, and the women folks pretend they don't know where he is. It's lucky for him."

"What do you want of him?"

"You and he both will know more about that after we've found him,"

replied Barzilla, as he touched his horse with his spurs, and both men rode swiftly down the lane and soon disappeared from sight up the road.

Little Peter told his companion of his suspicions as they resumed their walk, and Ted quickly stopped, and, shaking his fist in the direction in which the hors.e.m.e.n had disappeared, said, "Hangin' Sallies! Maybe I'd better take after them, if I don't find Benzeor."

"No, no, Ted. Come on, we're almost here now."

They soon entered the yard, and as the children discovered the presence of their brother they ran eagerly to him and threw themselves into his arms.

"I want to go home. I want to go home. May we go home now?" said one of them.

Little Peter's eyes filled with tears as he lifted the child in his arms and said, "No, I'm afraid not. We haven't any home now."

"But I want to go home," persisted the little fellow pleadingly. "I don't want to stay here any longer. I want to go home."

"Hasn't Benzeor been good to you?"

"Yes, but he isn't here. I want to go home. I want to go home."

Little Peter glanced up and saw that Ted's face was moving strangely, and that the tears were streaming from his eyes. The powerful man had a heart as tender as a woman's, and the piteous pleadings of the homeless, motherless little lad were more than he could endure.

"Here, Little Peter!" said Ted hastily. "You go in the house, and I'll look after the babies while you're gone. Here, my lads and la.s.sies all!

Come take a ride on the back of Jeshurun."

In a moment the grief of the little ones was forgotten, and, laughing in their delight, they were lifted upon the back of Jeshurun, who to all appearances had suddenly become as mild and gentle as a lamb.

Little Peter glanced back at the laughing group as he started toward the house, and then looking up beheld Sarah standing in the doorway. Her face was red with weeping and she evidently was in great distress.

"Why, Sarah!" exclaimed Little Peter. "What's the trouble? What is it?"

"My father! My father!" sobbed Sarah, burying her face in her hands.

"What's happened to him? Is he killed? Is he dead?"

"No, no. It's worse than that."

"Worse than that? What do you mean?"