Author of "Toby Tyler," "Tim and Tip," etc.
Chapter VI.
OLD BEN.
Toby watched anxiously as each wagon came up, but he failed to recognize any of the drivers. For the first time it occurred to him that perhaps those whom he knew were no longer with this particular company, and his delight gave way to sadness.
Fully twenty wagons had come, and he had just begun to think his fears had good foundation, when in the distance he saw the well-remembered monkey wagon, with the burly form of old Ben on the box.
Toby could not wait for that particular team to come up, even though it was driven at a reasonably rapid speed; but he started toward it as fast as he could run. After him, something like the tail of a comet, followed all his friends, who, having come so far, were determined not to lose sight of him for a single instant, if it could be prevented by any exertion on their part. Old Ben was driving in a sleepy sort of way, and paid no attention to the little fellow who was running toward him, until Toby shouted. Then the horses were stopped with a jerk that nearly threw them back on their haunches.
"Well, Toby my son, I declare I am glad to see you;" and old Ben reached down for the double purpose of shaking hands and helping the boy up to the seat beside him. "Well, well, well, it's been some time since you've been on this 'ere box, ain't it? I'd kinder forgotten what town it was we took you from; I knew it was somewhere hereabouts, though, an' I've kept my eye peeled for you ever since we've been in this part of the country. So you found your uncle Dan'l all right, did you?"
"Yes, Ben, an' he was awful good to me when I got home; but Mr. Stubbs got shot."
"No? you don't tell me! How did that happen?"
Then Toby told the story of his pet's death, and although it had occurred a year before, he could not keep the tears from his eyes as he spoke of it.