Waylaid on the Road
As the deep tones of the old bell died away on the evening air a great
shout of delight went up from the people on the streets. They leaped
and danced for joy. They tossed their hats in the air. They shouted
and sang. Many wept for joy. It was an exciting, a thrilling
manifestation.
Dick and Tom Dare were not a whit behind any in their expressions of
delight. They shouted for joy, and then in the excess of their
happiness they threw their arms around each other in a bearlike hug.
"Oh, Dick, I'm so glad!" cried Tom. "I never was so happy in my life."
"Nor I, Tom. This is the most joyous hour of my life! How delighted
father will be when we go home and tell him that it is settled, that
the Declaration of Independence is a real and determined fact!"
"It will please him more than anything else in the world, Dick."
"Yes, yes indeed."
Then lifting up his voice the patriot youth cried out loudly, his
voice ringing clear as the notes of a bugle:
"Down with the king! Long live Liberty! Long live Washington!"
The excitement was even greater after that, and instantly the cry was
taken up on every hand. Thousands shouted aloud, in a thrilling,
triumphant roar: "Down with the king! Long live Liberty! Long live
Washington!"
People leaped and danced, and shouted till they were hoarse. They were
like crazy people, but with them it was pure joy because of the
thought that they were to be free, to be their own masters,
independent of a tyrannical king. They had reason to be joyous and
happy.
It was certainly a great day for the American people-without doubt the
greatest in the history of the greatest country on the face of the
Globe.
After awhile, when the people had calmed down to a considerable extent
and were beginning to disperse to their homes, Dick and Tom Dare set
their faces homeward. They were soon at the river, and crossing on the
ferry, walked swiftly along the road. They were eager to get back and
tell their father the glad, the glorious news.
Part of the way the road led through a heavy growth of timber, and as
Dick and Tom were making their way past this point, talking
enthusiastically of what they had seen in the city, and never thinking
that danger might lurk near, they were suddenly set upon by four
youths of about their own age-no others, in fact, than Zeke Boggs, Lem
Hicks and two other Tory sympathisers of the neighborhood.
"We told ye we'd git even with ye!" hissed Zeke Boggs, as they hurled
themselves upon Dick and Tom. "Ye thought ye was mighty smart, there
in Phillydelphy, with ever'buddy on yer side an' ag'in us, but heer
its different an' we'll beat ye till ye'll wish ye had never been
born! Go fur 'em, fellers!" this last to his companions.
The two patriot youths, although taken by surprise, and outnumbered
two to one, were yet not dismayed, for they were brave lads, and they
fought the Tory youths with all their might, so fiercely, in fact,
that they held their own remarkably well. They knocked down each of
the four young Tories, and gave them a thumping that they would likely
remember for some time. Of course, they got hit a number of times by
the youths, but they did not mind it, the smart of the blows only
serving to make them settle down to their work with increased vim and
determination, and the result was that the Tory ruffians presently got
enough of it, and suddenly ceasing the attack and dashing in among the
trees at the roadside, disappeared from view, leaving Dick and Tom
Dare masters of the situation.
"Phew, that was warm work, Dick!" said Tom, wiping his perspiring face
with his handkerchief.
"Yes, so it was, Tom," replied his brother. "But I believe that we
made it warmer for Zeke and his gang than they did for us."
"Yes, I think we did," with a chuckle. "Say, Dick, they are better
runners than fighters, aren't they!"
"I think they are, Tom. They did some lively sprinting, just now, at
any rate."
"I guess they won't be likely to attack us again, soon."
"Hardly."
Dick and Tom now resumed their journey homeward, and reached there
about half an hour later. It was still light enough to see their
father at work in the backyard, as they entered the front gate. They
ran around the house at the top of their speed, to halt a few moments
later in front of their father.
"They did it, father!" exclaimed Tom, pantingly. "They adopted and
signed the Declaration of Independence."
"Say you so, my son?" exclaimed Mr. Dare joyously. "Well, heaven be
praised! I am glad, my sons; yes, very, very glad! It means much to
everybody, and to young people like yourselves more than to older
ones, for you have practically the whole of your lives before you,
while we older people have already lived the greater portion of the
time allotted to us."
"It was wonderful, the interest and excitement shown by the people in
Philadelphia, father!" said Dick. "They were wild with delight."
"I have no doubt of it, my son. And they had reason to be delighted.
It is a great thing to feel free and independent. I feel wonderfully
relieved already. I feel as if shackles had suddenly been stricken
from my limbs, and I have no doubt that is the way the majority of the
people look at the matter, so why should they not feel joyous?"
The three then entered the house, Mr. Dare having finished his work
for the evening, and Mrs. Dare greeted her sons affectionately.
"The Declaration of Independence has been adopted, wife," said Mr.
Dare, joyously. "The die is cast. There will be war now, undoubtedly,
and it will result in the independence of the people of America. It
cannot result otherwise, for the people will fight to the death. In
the words of Patrick Henry, it will be with them, `Give me liberty, or
give me death!'"
"I am glad, Henry," said Mrs. Dare. "I am glad, and almost sorry, as
well, for-I am afraid it will take you from me. You will want to enter
the army, I am afraid."
"Oh, I must do so, wife," earnestly. "Every man should step to the
front and shoulder a musket and fight for liberty. Yes, I must go to
the war, mother. I must join the Continental Army at once."
"I feared it," sighed the woman. "But, I shall try to be brave and
bear up well, for I know that it is the right thing for you to do. I
would not want you to stay at home, when you were needed at the front
to help fight the minions of King George."
"Spoken like my own true-hearted wife!" said Mr. Dare. "I knew you
would look at the matter that way, dear."
At this moment there came a knock on the back-door, and when Mrs. Dare
opened it, she saw a neighbor, Abe Boggs, the father of Zeke, standing
there. This man was an avowed Tory, who was vehement in his
declarations of allegiance to the king, and who had been heard often
to viciously proclaim that all who were not in favor of the king, were
traitors and that they ought to be hung. Knowing this, and
instinctively disliking the man because she knew he was vicious and
bad, Mrs. Dare's heart sank when she saw who was standing there.
The fact was, that the Dares lived right in the midst of a Tory
neighborhood; that is the six or seven nearest neighbors were
adherents of the king, and they neighbored among themselves, and would
not have anything to do with the Dares. This did not bother the
patriot family, however, for they did not like the Tory families
anyway. Mr. Dare often met one or more of the men, when going about
his work, however, and frequently he had arguments with them. As he
was a brave man, and frank-spoken as he was brave, he always told the
Tories just what he thought of their king, and thus he had angered
them many times, and they had learned to hate him. Only his
fearlessness, and the fact that he was known to be a dangerous man to
interfere with, had saved him from rough treatment at the hands of the
Tories.
"Good evenin', Mrs. Dare," said Boggs, ducking his head. "Tell yer
husban' to come out here; we'd like to see 'im."
Mrs. Dare glanced out into the yard, and her heart gave a leap, and
then sank as she saw several of their Tory neighbors sanding in a
group a few yards from the house. She noted, with a feeling of fear
gripping her heart, that two or three of them had rifles in their
hands.
"W-what do you want, Mr. Boggs?" she asked, her voice trembling. "My
husband is here, but-but-we were just going to eat supper, and--"
"Supper can wait a few minutes, wife," said Mr. Dare. "I'll see what
neighbor Boggs wants. Won't you come in, Abe?"
"No, we wanter see ye out here, Dare" replied the Tory. "Come out uv
doors. We won't keep ye but a minnet."
"Oh, husband, be careful!" whispered Mrs. Dare in her husband's ear as
he passed her. "Don't anger them. They have weapons in their hands,
and--" With a smile and a reassuring glance Mr. Dare passed on out,
closing the door behind him. He had no fear whatever of his Tory
neighbors, and would have scoffed at the idea of their trying to do
him injury.
Dick and Tom were washing their faces and hands and combing their
hair, and did not know anything about the coming of the Tories until
they entered the room where their mother was, and then Mr. Dare had
been out in the yard perhaps five minutes. During this time Mrs. Dare
had been on the anxious seat, so to speak. She had been listening
eagerly and anxiously, fearing she might hear rifle-shots, or the
sound of a struggle, but no such sounds had come to her hearing.
Still, she was not feeling very much reassured when the boys entered
the room, and she told them about the coming of Abe Boggs and some
more of the neighbors, and how they had called Mr. Dare out, on the
plea of wishing to speak to him.
"He's been out there quite a while," Mrs. Dare finished; "and I'm
beginning to feel uneasy. I wish you would go out and tell father to
come in, that supper is getting cold, Dick."
"Certainly, mother," said Dick, and he hastened to the door. The truth
was, that a feeling of uneasiness had taken hold upon him when he
heard what his mother had to say about the Tories, and, remembering
the trouble he and Tom had had with Zeke Boggs and his cronies that
afternoon in Philadelphia and on the road home, Dick was led to fear
that the Tories had called his father out of doors with evil intent.
He opened the door and stepped quickly out, and Tom, who had also been
assailed with fears for his father's safety, was close at his heels.
They looked all around, but to their surprise, and to their alarm as
well, there was no one in sight. Neither their father nor the Tories
could be seen anywhere. It was so dark that the youths could not see
any very great distance with distinctness, but they were confident
that there was nobody in the back yard.
"They're around in the front yard, likely, Dick," said Tom, but his
tone lacked positiveness. It was evident that he had fears that such
was not really the case.
The two hastened around the house, accompanied by their mother, who
had followed them to the door and had, like her sons, noted that there
was nobody to be seen. And when they reached the front yard, they saw
it was the same there: Not a soul was in the front yard. The Tories,
and Mr. Dare as well, had disappeared.
"Oh, where can they be?" cried Mrs. Dare, almost at the weeping point.
"What have they done with your father? Oh, I am afraid they have
wrought him injury of some kind, sons!"
The youths were alarmed, but they pretended that such was not the
case, in order to reassure their mother. They said that their father
was all right.
"He has gone with them, to see about something," said Dick. "You go
back in the house, mother, and Tom and I will go over to Mr. Boggs and
see what has become of father. Likely he is there. You go in and stay
with Mary. We won't be gone long."
"Very well, Dick," said Mrs. Dare; "but hurry, for I shall be anxious
till you get back with your father."
She entered the house, and Dick and Tom hastened over to the Boggs
home, which was less than a quarter mile distant. Mr. Dare was not
there, and Mrs. Boggs said she did not know where her husband was,
that he had left the house an hour or more before, saying he did not
know when he would be back. Thanking her for the information, Dick and
Tom hastened to the homes of several of the neighboring Tories in
succession, and made inquiries regarding Mr. Dare, but with the same
result as at the Boggs home. In none of the homes visited were any of
the men of the house, and the women did not know where the men were.
Greatly worried now, but hoping they would find their father at home
when they got there, Dick and Tom hastened back, and as they
approached the house, they caught sight of something white on the
door. When they reached the door, they found it was a piece of paper,
and on taking this into the house discovered it was a rudely scrawled
note, signed by Abe Boggs and six of his Tory neighbors. The note read
as follows:
"To Mrs. Dare and rebel sons, Dick and Tom:
"We hev took Henry Dare prisner. He
is a rebel, an we are goin ter turn him over
to Captain Wilson an his compny uv
British sojers, who hev ben heer fur a
week past, an are goin to jine the main
army on Long Island to-night. Ye kaint
do nothin to git him back, so ye needn try.
An ye two boys, Dick an Tom, had better be
keerful er we'll serve ye worsen whut we
hev yer father. We don't aim ter hev
any rebels in our neighborhood. So, Dick
and Tom Dare, hev a care!"
"Oh, husband is a prisoner in the hands of the British!" wailed Mrs.
Dare. "Oh, this is terrible, boys! What shall we do? Oh, what shall we
do!"
"Don't be frightened, mother," said Dick, soothingly. "I don't think
father is in any danger. He is a prisoner, true, but the British don't
kill prisoners, and sooner or later father will escape-or be rescued.
That will be work for Tom and I, mother!" his eyes lighting up. "We
will make it our object in life to rescue father and get him back home
here, with you, mother."
The poor woman was not greatly comforted, however, and she shook her
head, at the same time saying, in a hopeless tone of voice:
"What could you do, you are only a couple of boys? You could not
possibly rescue father. It is useless to think of such a thing. Oh, I
greatly fear I shall never see my husband again in this world! Oh,
those terrible, cowardly Tories!" The good woman gave way to an
outburst of uncontrollable grief.
"Yes, you shall see father again, mother," declared Dick, decidedly.
"Don't worry. He is safe from personal harm, and sooner or later we
will succeed in getting him located and will rescue him. Tom and I
will make that our object in life."
"Yes, yes, mother," said Tom eagerly. "We'll join the patriot army, if
need be, to further our ends, and while fighting for Liberty and
Independence, and aiding our country in that manner, we will at the
same time be on the lookout to find father and rescue him."
"Yes, that is what we will do," said Dick. "Father would have joined
the patriot army if he had not been captured and taken away by the
Tories, and now that he is not able to do that, we will do it in his
stead. I know it is what father would wish us to do, and as Tom says,
it will give us a better chance to find and rescue father."
"Oh, my sons, my sons! How can I spare you, too?" murmured Mrs. Dare.
"How can I let you leave me, now that I have lost your dear father!"
"It will be only temporary, mother. You can see, when you give the
matter more thought, that it is the best thing to do."
"Perhaps so, Dick, darling," acquiesced Mrs. Dare, "but it is hard!"
Throwing their arms about their mother's neck, the youths kissed her,
and presently she grew more calm.