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 lassies 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.