THE RELEASE OF BENZEOR
BENZEOR'S plight was a sad one, but as he gazed about him in his
helplessness the only face upon which he could discover any traces of
sympathy or compassion was that of Little Peter. The lad had had no
suspicion of his neighbor, and was ignorant, as we know, of the part
which Benzeor had taken in the attack on his father's house. Even now it
was difficult for him to believe that Ted had spoken truly. He must have
been mistaken, Peter thought, as he recalled the kindness of Sarah and
Benzeor's wife in permitting the children to find a shelter in their
home.
Perhaps the perplexed lad's face betrayed his feelings, for just at that
moment Benzeor looked up and said,--
"There! That boy knows me!" and he pointed at Little Peter as he spoke.
"He knows all about me, for he's a neighbor of mine. I tell you there's
been a mistake. I'm not the man you're"--
Benzeor's words were suddenly interrupted by Ted, who thrust his head
again under the water, and when he lifted him out once more the prisoner
was sputtering and gasping for breath.
"Made a mistake, did I?" exclaimed the angry giant. "Well, mebbe I did,
but I reckon the biggest one was in not keepin' you under the river all
the time. Runnin' round here prowlin' on defenseless women folks and
tryin' to steal what little money they've got left! Drownin' 's too good
for such as you!" And, unable to restrain himself, the angry man again
shook his helpless victim till it seemed as if the little breath Benzeor
retained must be driven from his body.
"I--I--I'm telling you the truth," gasped Benzeor when he had recovered
sufficiently to be able to speak again. "Won't you help me? Won't you
save me from this--this--man?" he pleaded, turning to the men in the
whaleboat. "That--that boy there knows me, and he'll tell you I--I--I'm
all right. Won't you, Little Peter? Please! Please, tell them!"
"Do you know him?" said the leader to Little Peter.
"Yes," replied the lad quietly.
"Ye don't know any good of him, do ye?" said Ted, interrupting, and
tightening his grasp upon the collar of his victim as he spoke.
"He is a neighbor of mine, as he said. I never knew any bad of him. And
his wife and girl are taking care of the children. I know that." Little
Peter was perplexed, and his suspicions had been aroused by the
discovery of his neighbor in his present predicament, but the
recollection of Sarah's kindness moved him to refer to their recent
actions, in the hope that he might aid her father.
"Ho! ho! ho!" laughed Ted. "Then his wife takes care of her children,
does she? She must be a wonderful woman to do that. Well, let her take
care of her brats, and I'll take care of her man, and good care, too!"
As Ted acted as if he were about to renew his attentions, the leader
hastily said, "The lad doesn't mean this fellow's children, but his own
little brothers and sisters," and in a few words he related the story of
the attack on Little Peter's home, and the sad loss which had occurred
there.
"Ye don't say so!" said Ted, bestowing a glance of sympathy upon the
boy. "That's bad! It is indeed! And ye say this fellow has taken yer
little brothers and sisters into his place?"
"Yes," said Peter eagerly.
"Well, all I can say is that I'd about as soon put a hawk to look after
chickens, if it was my doin's."
"Yes," said Benzeor quickly, striving to take advantage of the
impression which Little Peter's words had momentarily created. "Yes, the
children are all at my house, and being well looked after, too. That
doesn't look very much, does it, as if I was a bad man? I tell you
there's been a mistake! There's been a mistake! I didn't have anything
to do with the attack on this man's place. Help me! Help me!" he hastily
cried out, as Ted acted as if he were about to repeat his former
actions.
"Hold on a minute, Ted. Perhaps the man's got something more to say,"
said the leader.
"I am a-holdin' on. Can't ye see that?" replied Ted grimly, once more
tightening his grasp upon the unfortunate Benzeor's collar.
"I have got something to say. Something you want to hear, too," said
Benzeor eagerly, and appealing to the leader in the whaleboat as he
spoke.
"Say it," said Ted gruffly.
"The British are going to make an attack on the ship down in the bay."
"What's that you say?" said the leader quickly. "Do you mean on the
Washington?"
"Yes, yes, that's just what I mean. There are a couple of gunboats off
the shore here now, and they're going to land some men and get her back
again."
"There are two boats off the shore, Ted. I happen to know that, for this
very craft we've got along with us we took from them this afternoon,"
said the leader. And he briefly related the story of the capture.
"There, ye see I'm right!" said Benzeor, eager to follow up the
impression his words and those of the leader had created. "Now if you'll
help me out of the clutches of"--
"Keep still, you!" interrupted Ted angrily. "It'll be time enough for
you to talk when I let go on ye. I reckon nobody is a-goin' to take you
out o' my clutches till I get good and ready to let ye go. Now then,
stand up straight and speak yer piece like a little man! How did ye
happen to know the British was a-goin' to make an attack on the
Washington?"
"I heard one of the men up by your house say so."
"I thought ye didn't have anything to do with that attack on poor
Sallie! She's my wife, I'd have ye know. I thought you was a-sayin' you
wasn't there, and all the time I see ye, and chased ye right out o' my
yard, clear down to the river! And now ye say ye heard one of the men
there tell about the plan the British have on deck to get the Washington
back again!"
"I didn't say I wasn't there," pleaded Benzeor. "All I said was that I
didn't have anything to do with it, and I didn't."
"Ye"--began Ted, all his anger instantly returning.
"Hold on, Ted! Hold on! Let's hear what the man has to say," exclaimed
the leader.
"I'll hold on, never ye fret yerself about that!" replied Ted, still
retaining a firm grasp on his victim, but nevertheless abandoning the
action he had evidently had in mind.
"I was there, I'm not denying that," pleaded Benzeor; "but I didn't have
a gun in my hands, and I didn't touch the rope either. I fell in with
the men and they made me go with them. I just couldn't help myself. And
it was while I was there I heard 'em talking about the plan to take the
Love--I mean the Washington," he hastily added. "They're going to take
her in the morning."
"You mean they're going to try to take her," said the leader.
"Yes, that's what I mean; they're going to try to take her."
"The reptile may be tellin' the truth," said Ted soberly. "I had some o'
the best o' the Washington's cargo myself. Ye know they brought about
all that was aboard o' her up to Manasquan, and sold it here, or
leastwise Marshal John Stokes sold it for 'em. I happen to know about
that, and the vermin here may be tellin' the truth. Sometimes he does it
by mistake, I suppose."
A few weeks prior to this time the British ship Love and Unity ran
ashore near Tom's River. There were those among the people of the region
who wagged their heads and winked slyly whenever they referred to the
misfortune of the vessel, for it was a prevailing impression there that
the pilot had not been especially favorable to the British, and more by
design than by accident had grounded the vessel near the shore.
Be that as it may, the militia had quickly rallied, and as most of the
men were as much at home upon the water as they were upon the land, they
seized the unfortunate Love and Unity, and brought her safely into port
as a prize.
The cargo was considered a very valuable one, consisting, as it did,
chiefly of sugar and various liquors highly prized by the men of those
days, and, after being duly advertised, was sold by John Stokes at
Manasquan.
The Love and Unity was renamed the Washington, and at this time was
lying at anchor near the mouth of Tom's River, within the shelter of
Barnegat Bay. As most of the men in the whaleboat, as well as the mighty
Ted himself, were familiar with these facts, the words of Benzeor
naturally created a far deeper impression than they might otherwise have
done.
"I'll tell ye what," said Ted suddenly, turning Benzeor about so that he
could look directly into his face as he spoke, "ye seem so well posted
I've half a mind to let ye go."
"I'm telling you just exactly what I heard," said Benzeor, his hope of
escape instantly increasing. "That's what I heard the men say."
"And it was in the mornin' when they was goin' to come?"
"Yes."
"Well, I'm a-goin' to let you off. Hold on a minit," he added as Benzeor
strove to free himself. "I haven't finished yet. I'm thinkin' of lettin'
ye go on one condition."
"What's that?" said Benzeor eagerly.
"I'm comin' to that pretty quick. I'm pretty comfortable here, so to
speak, and don't appear to be in such a hurry as you." As the two men
were still standing in the water, and Benzeor's teeth were chattering
from cold or fear, the words of the huge man were perhaps not fully
appreciated by his prisoner. "Ye appear to be so happy over yer
information--though fer my part I don't see what ye held it back till
this time fer--that I'm a-goin' to give ye a treat. I'm a-goin' to let
ye go, yes, I am; ye needn't be scart about that. Ye're goin', and I'll
tell ye where ye're goin', too. Ye're goin, to join the crew o' this
whaleboat and go down and help them defend the Washington against her
enemies. That's the condition I'm placin' on ye, and that's what I'm
goin' to do with ye."
And the powerful man picked Benzeor up in his arms and placed him in
the whaleboat next to Peter, who, we may be sure, had not been an
uninterested observer of all that had occurred.
"There ye be," said Ted, breaking forth into a loud laugh as he saw the
dripping Benzeor hastily take his seat and glance apprehensively toward
him. "Now, then," he added, turning to the leader, and still remaining
in the water, which came well up to his shoulders as he placed his hand
on the side of the supply boat, "if ye want me to, I'll take charge o'
yer prize. You'll be puttin' straight fer Tom's River, I doubt not, and
ye won't want to be bothered by an extra craft. I'll hide her in a good
place up the shore, and likely enough I may come down to the bay myself
in the night. Ye'll be settin' up a-waitin' fer me, won't ye?" he added,
speaking to Benzeor.
As that individual made no reply, Ted again began to converse with the
leader of the band, and in a few minutes all the details were arranged.
The captured boat was to be left in his charge, and soon the whaleboat
started down the river toward the ocean.
The sun had now disappeared from sight, but the approach of night was
all the more favorable for the plans of the men. When once they were
out on the ocean, they hoisted a sail and sped rapidly down the coast.
A sail of a little more than twenty miles brought them to Barnegat
Inlet, and as they entered the bay it was decided to make use of the
oars again. It was almost midnight when at last they saw the Washington
at anchor in Tom's River, and their hail was quickly answered.
Little Peter was so thoroughly wearied by the labors of the long day
that he was rejoiced to be told that he could turn in for the night.
Benzeor was to have a hammock near him, and, tired as the lad was, he
eagerly began to ply the man with questions when they had withdrawn from
their fellows.
"Benzeor, I came down here to find out about father. I suppose you know
he was taken by Fenton's gang and that my mother was shot?"
"I heard about it."
"It was terrible, Benzeor. I don't know what I should have done if Sarah
hadn't taken the children. 'Twas good of her, and of you, too, for you
know all about it, I see. I shan't forget it very soon."
As Benzeor made no reply, Peter continued: "I don't know just what to
do to find out about father. The pine robbers have their quarters down
here, I'm told, and I thought I'd tell Captain Dennis about it and
perhaps he would send out a party to search for him. I didn't know just
what to make of your being here at first, but I see you have had trouble
with them, too. That was mean of Ted to treat you as he did when you
said the pine robbers made you go with them. Was it Fenton's band that
got hold of you?"
"Yes; that is, I don't think so. I'm not just sure who they were."
"Couldn't have been Fenton then, for you know him when you see him, I'm
sure. Benzeor, don't you think I'd better report the capture of my
father to Captain Dennis and ask him if he won't send out a searching
party?"
"No," said Benzeor slowly. "I don't think that will do any good."
"Why not? What else can I do?"
"Why, the fact is," said Benzeor, "I heard those men talking about your
father, too."
"Did you?" said Peter eagerly, sitting up in his hammock as he spoke. He
could not see his companion's face in the darkness, and perhaps it was
as well for the troubled lad that he could not, for he would have seen
little to comfort him expressed upon it.
"Yes, I heard 'em. There's no use in your reporting it to Captain Dennis
or to any one else."
"Why not? Why not? They haven't shot him, have they?"
"No. He's been sent to New York."
Peter said no more. The thick darkness seemed like that within his own
soul. All his efforts had been worse than useless, and the troubled boy
knew not what next to do.