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Read Ebook: The Young Continentals at Lexington by McIntyre John T John Thomas Boyer Ralph L Ralph Ludwig Illustrator
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Ebook has 1856 lines and 58797 words, and 38 pages
PAGE
"WHO ARE YOU?" HE DEMANDED 34
"I ASK YOUR PARDON, MR. WASHINGTON" 103
"THERE IS SOMETHING WRONG, THEN" 188
HE SAW THE TALL STRANGER 228
HE GOT A GLIMPSE OF THE NEWCOMER 270
The Young Continentals at Lexington
SHOWS HOW BEN COOPER SAW THE WAR A LONG WAY OFF
The smart little roan mare drew up at the gate of the Cooper place, and Ben Cooper leaned over and lifted the latch with the loop of his riding-whip. The gate was still creaking open when the lad noticed old Stephen Comegies stumping along the road on his gouty legs, and leaning heavily upon a stout oaken staff.
"Good-morning, Mr. Comegies," saluted Ben, cheerily.
But old Stephen seemed not to hear; his eyes were fixed upon the road, and his lips were muttering; from the way his gnarled hand clutched the staff, it would have fared badly with those who had excited his anger had they been in reach of its iron-shod foot.
"A fine morning, Mr. Comegies," said Ben Cooper.
This time he was heard. The old man paused--leaned upon the staff and regarded the boy from under his shaggy gray brows.
"A fine morning," repeated he. "No! That it is not. I see nothing fine in it. But," and his voice rose a pitch higher, "I see a great deal of bad in it. I see a great store of ill being laid up, for future days to take care of."
A slow smile stole over Ben Cooper's round, good-natured face. The whole of Germantown called old Stephen "Grumpy Comegies" and Ben had listened to him frequently before.
"It's fine weather anyway," insisted Ben. "The harvests are almost ready; the shooting is going to be good; the rabbits and birds are growing fat and plenty. What more can any one want?"
"If they had any understanding," replied old Stephen, "they might feel sorry that these colonies are being swept by a flood of ingratitude to an honest king."
Ben's mouth puckered into a whistle of surprise; for Stephen Comegies was a man of authority and weight in the community, and it seemed odd that he should begin a political discussion with a boy of sixteen years upon the open road. However, the matter was explained the next moment, when Ben heard his father's voice and saw him rise up from a bench inside the gate where he had been sitting with a book.
"I know, Mr. Comegies," said Robert Cooper, "that your words are pointed at myself and not at the boy; so I will take them up."
He leaned upon the fence as he spoke, fluttering the leaves of the book with his fingers. He was a tall, spare man with a pale, studious face; but there was something about him that was forceful and ready; an opponent would never find him at a loss for either words or actions.
"Can you deny that a spirit of unrest is abroad?" demanded old Stephen, planting the iron-tipped staff in the road. "Can you deny that a rebellion is being fostered against a generous prince? Can you deny that the irresponsible firebrands in New England are arming against their lawful rulers?"
"I shall not deny anything that you charge," replied Mr. Cooper sternly, "I shall only say that it is all true, and further add that I am greatly pleased to be able to say it."
"Take care," cried the old man, his gaunt, once powerful frame quivering with resentment. "Take care, Robert Cooper. You and your like are sowing seeds of sedition that can be reaped only by the bayonets of the king's regiments. You can flaunt your scandalous theories of liberty in the faces of your neighbors, but when the time for reckoning comes you may not seem so ready."
"I think," replied Mr. Cooper, calmly, "that when it does come, the reckoning will find me ready enough."
Old Stephen lifted his staff and shook it tremulously to the southward.
"The broth that those vipers brew in Philadelphia," declared he, "will be the death of them!"
"Those sent by the different colonies to this Congress that is to meet," said Robert Cooper, "are honest American gentlemen. They have wrongs that require redressing and they chose this means, as the best they know, of procuring the remedy."
"It is a threat," maintained the old man. "They are shaking a sword in King George's face. Why do they not beg redress of wrongs like dutiful subjects, and not come together like a lot of skulking rascals?"
"The time for begging has gone by," said Mr. Cooper. "From now on the colonies will demand--and in a voice not to be mistaken. We have submitted too long; the king is an ignorant old man surrounded by incompetents. There have been no more faithful subjects than those of America; but they will not permit themselves to be plundered. If we are to be taxed we desire a voice in the government that fixes those taxes."
Stephen Comegies gazed at the speaker in horror. That a man should cherish such sentiments and still be permitted at large filled him with wondering alarm. For a moment he was unable to speak; then, recovering, he burst out:
"This is not the first time I have heard treason from you, Robert Cooper; and the day is fast coming when you shall rue having spoken it." There was a pause, then he resumed with a harsh laugh, "They will demand, will they? And in a voice that will not be mistaken, eh? Well, take care! It is easy to send out a summons to draw a rebel pack together, but it is not always so easy to actually assemble them."
Mr. Cooper gazed steadfastly into the deeply-lined face of the old Tory; there was something in the countenance threatening and sombre, and somehow it gave out an impression of hidden joy at some grim joke. Mr. Cooper was about to reply, but old Stephen gripped his staff firmly and moved a step or two on his way. Then he paused and turned his head.
"Don't forget what I have said," added he, with another cackle of laughter, "and don't say you were taken unawares."
Then he stumped away upon his gouty legs, the iron-shod staff ringing upon the hard road, his big gray head bent and his lips muttering their hatred of all the king's enemies.
"He seems to be in a high temper this morning," laughed Ben, who had listened with amusement to the Tory's words. "But he's always crying out against something."
Mr. Cooper shook his head.
"I'm afraid," said he, "that the coming struggle will see the Tories one of our greatest sources of vexation."
Ben looked at his father in surprise.
"The coming struggle," repeated he. "Do you actually believe that it will come to that, father?"
Mr. Cooper resumed his seat upon the bench and opened the book once more. It was easy to see that his fears were of the worst, but that he had no desire to impart them to his son.
"All this controversy is a struggle," he said. "And as time draws on, it will grow more bitter."
"But," queried Ben, his face alight with anticipation, "do you think it will end in blows being struck?"
But his father was bent over the book. All he would say was:
"No one can predict the outcome of such a thing."
Ben waited for a moment, thinking he would speak further; but as he did not, the lad shook the reins and Molly loped gaily up the path and off toward the barn.
In the shadow of the coach house a broad-shouldered youth of seventeen was engaged in cleaning a long, shining rifle. He looked up as Ben dismounted and turned the mare over to a hired man.
"Good morning for a ride," commented he, as he rubbed industriously at the brass butt of the weapon. "Wanted to go over my traps, or I'd have joined you."
"You missed something," replied Ben, as he sat upon a sawbuck near the other. "The air is fine upon the road."
"I know," smiled the other, "full of sunshine and some other things which you can't see, but which make you feel like a giant. It's that way among the hills, up in the Wyoming valley."
Ben kicked at some chips with the toe of his riding-boot and looked thoughtful.
The broad-shouldered youth laughed and his gray eyes twinkled.
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