Read Online Toliver's Secret by Esther Wood Brady - Free Book Online

hoisting up their knapsacks.
    She looked eagerly at all the signs hanging above the shops and taverns that stood against the bluff on the opposite side of the street. Nowhere could she see a sign for the Jolly Fox Tavern. Ellen was puzzled. Grandfather said it would be here and not hard to find, for Elizabeth was a small town.
    She began to feel anxious and decided to ask someone. Carrying her blue bundle behind her, she walked up to a big ruddy-faced workman who had stopped his oxen by a dock and was loading his oxcart with wooden army chests. His huge muscles almost burst the sleeves of his woolen shirt. Across his fat stomach was stretched a well-worn leather apron.
    â€œWhere is Mr. Shannon’s tavern?” Ellen shouted above the noise of the drums and the bagpipes.
    â€œMust be here somewhere.” The man’s voice was as deep and rumbling as a foghorn.
    â€œIt’s at the sign of the Jolly Fox,” Ellen shouted.
    â€œJolly Fox Tavern?” The man wiped his hands on his shirt sleeves. “Never saw it here in Amboy.”
    â€œAmboy!” cried Ellen. “Isn’t this Elizabeth-town?”
    â€œNay. It’s Perth Amboy.” The man jumped up on his cart and started to push and pull at the army cheststo pile them up.
    Ellen stared at him—speechless. Higgins had said their boat was coming to Elizabeth-town.
    â€œElizabeth is back there.” The man pointed with his chin. “Back along the shore—about ten miles or so.”
    â€œBut how can I get to Elizabeth?” Ellen cried in a high frightened voice.
    â€œSwim—maybe,” he laughed. “But walk—likely.”
    In her alarm, Ellen felt as if her head were about to spin off her shoulders. She couldn’t think and she suddenly felt very hot. She must be in a nightmare. Grandfather had said there was only one thing to do when she got off the boat. Walk to the tavern of friendly Mr. Shannon. He hadn’t said she might have to walk ten miles! In the winter! When it was getting late and without knowing the way!
    When the man looked at her frightened face he climbed down from his cart and bent over her so she could hear him clearly. “Stagecoaches go to Elizabeth,” he said. “If you have money to pay.”
    Of course she had money to pay. She had the coins in her pocket.
    â€œSee the big inn yonder,” he said kindly as he pointed down the street. “See the fenced-in yardbeside it. The stagecoach comes by there to pick up passengers.”
    â€œOh, thank you,” said Ellen gratefully.
    In all her life she never had been on a stagecoach, but she had seen them rolling along the streets in New York. She would climb up and get a seat on top beside the driver and she would ask him to stop in front of the Jolly Fox Tavern so she’d have no more searching to do.
    As she picked her way through the crowds that filled the street, she was surprised to see so many men who looked different from the familiar redcoats. Some had short plaid skirts and bare knees and they marched to the tune of bagpipes. Grandfather had told her they were British subjects who came from Scotland. Highlanders, he called them. But she stared in surprise at the other big men with hard faces under great heavy hats who spoke in words she couldn’t understand at all. They couldn’t be British soldiers, for some wore blue coats and others green.
    â€œAnd yet,” Ellen said to herself, “they have guns with bayonets and they carry knapsacks—so they must be fighting men.”
    Carefully she edged her way past them looking up at their grim faces and clutching her bundle tightlyin her arms. She hoped none of them would notice her.
    â€œWhy,” she thought suddenly, “they must be the Hessians.” She had heard about the terrible Hessians after the battles on Long Island. Everyone at home resented the German soldiers who hired themselves to King George to fight his wars for