"Well, good luck to ye. Good luck to ye. We'll look after the place," called Barzilla as he departed.
If Peter had gone to the door, he would have discovered that Barzilla had not departed to go to his own house, but that after he had entered the road he had turned quickly and started in the direction in which the Navesink lay. But as Peter did not rise from his seat, he missed all that, and, besides, in all probability he would only have been puzzled by his neighbor's actions and unable to account for the haste with which he had made the change.
Peter prepared his breakfast, and then waited for the coming of Indian John. The minutes passed, but the Indian did not put in an appearance, and the lad began to suspect that he would not return. At last, when the sun had appeared, his suspicions passed into certainty, and, resolving to wait for him no longer, he closed the house and started resolutely on the path which led down to the bank of the Navesink, where he kept his little skiff concealed.
He soon arrived at the familiar place, and, after taking his oars from their hiding-place on the bank, pushed the little boat out into the stream and began to row. The heat of the morning soon began to make itself felt, but Peter did not cease from his labors. He was thinking of his father and where he might then be. He was hoping that he would be retained and sent to New York as a prisoner, for Little Peter was well aware of the value of the reward which was offered for every prisoner taken; but Fenton, eager as he was for money, was not likely to incur any unnecessary risk for himself by keeping any one near him who might prove to be a source of danger. And Little Peter knew that his father, especially after the recent events, was not likely to be quiet. Of what might then occur, the lad hardly dared to think. He only knew that what he was to do must be done quickly, if it was to avail, and he rowed on and on without once stopping for rest.
He had covered about half the distance he was to go, when he heard a hail from down the river. Hastily turning about at the unexpected summons, he saw a little cat-boat slowly coming up the river, and now not many yards away.
"It's Benzeor Osburn," said Peter to himself, as he obtained a glimpse of the man at the helm. "But who's that with him? It's Jacob Van Note. Yes, and that's Barzilla Giberson, too. What in the world"—
His meditations were interrupted by Benzeor's hail, "Where ye bound this mornin', Little Peter? There's to be no lookout to-day, is there?"
"I haven't heard of any," replied Peter, looking at Barzilla and striving to understand how it was that the man who had so recently left his house could now be with Benzeor sailing up the Navesink.
"I came down here after I left you," said Barzilla, as if he felt that he must reply to the question expressed in Peter's manner, "and I fell in with Benzeor, so I stopped and came back to tell him all about the doin's that have been goin' on since he went away. Benzeor's been gone from home two days and more, ye know."
"Has he?" replied Peter. "No. I didn't know. Benzeor, the children are at your house. Sarah said I could leave them there and she'd look after them. If it isn't all right, I'll take them away as soon as I come back."