Tom's surprise was still further increased when he recognized one of the men on the seat as Little Peter, and by his side a sergeant, who was driving. It was Little Peter's condition, however, which quickly drew all of Tom's attention, for the lad was carrying one arm in a sling, one of his eyes was discolored, and the marks of suffering were plainly to be seen on his face.
Tom quickly ran out into the road, and as his friend recognized him, at a word from him the horses stopped, and the two boys looked at each other for a moment as if each was trying to understand how it was that they both were there.
"What's the matter? Were you in the battle?" said Tom, who was the first to speak.
"No, that is, I wasn't in the battle by the Court-House. I met Fenton three days ago up by the old mill, and these are a few tokens of his regard which he left with me," said Little Peter, slightly moving his wounded arm as he spoke.
As Tom still looked blankly at him, the lad continued, "I suppose Fenton thought he left me dead, and it's likely I should have died if Barzilla Giberson and Jacob Vannote hadn't found me. They took me up and carried me over to Benzeor's, though I didn't know anything about it at the time. Sarah and her mother took such good care of me that I'm all right now, or at least I'm a good deal better."
"You don't look as if you ought to be here," replied Tom. "You say Barzilla and Jacob found you and took you over to Benzeor's? I don't understand."
"They're all right; I understand just how it is now."
"What, Benzeor all right?"
"No, Barzilla and Jacob. I know all about Benzeor, too," he added in a low voice.
"Where is he?"