WHAT HAPPENED IN THE NIGHT.
For a moment, Wade forgot that he was hungry. Matt was up to something.
He moved as though he was not very lame. Wade opened the door, and
looked to see which way the young rascal went. He saw him take the
river road towards the village. Then Wade made his way to the pantry,
where he found plenty of brown bread, but no butter or any thing else
that was eatable; for Mrs. Swikes did not leave white bread (when there
was any in the house) and pies where they could tempt the boy of all
work. She thought he might be wicked enough to help himself.
When he had secured all he wanted, he put out the match he had lighted,
and was about to bear his plunder to the garret where he could appease
his hunger without danger, when he heard the door of Mr. Swikes’s
chamber opened. It was next to the kitchen. Poor Wade felt that he
was in a scrape. Taking a few pieces of black bread was a high crime
for him to commit in that house. The pantry was large, and he crawled
behind the door.
“I’m sure I heard some one in the kitchen,” said Mrs. Swikes; and she
was one of those who often insist upon finding a man in the house.
“I guess you was dreaming,” replied Mr. Swikes.
“No, I wasn’t: I heard the floor squeak as it does when any one treads
on it,” persisted the woman. “You’ve got two hundred dollars of money
hid in that closet, and it’s worth coming here arter.”
“But nobody knows I’ve got it.”
“Strike a light, and see if it is safe,” continued Mrs. Swikes in the
chamber.
The farmer did light a candle; and, through a crack of the pantry door,
Wade saw him put his hand in the lower left-hand corner of the closet
over the fireplace.
“It’s all right,” said Mr. Swikes, when he had completed his
examination: “I don’t believe there is anybody in the house that don’t
belong here.”
With this he went to bed; but Wade heard them talking together for some
time, and he dared not leave his hiding-place. He thought they would
never go to sleep, after he had waited some time. The door leading to
the cellar-stairs opened from this pantry, or “buttery” as Mrs. Swikes
called it, and Wade saw that he might escape from his hiding-place in
that way; but he was afraid to open the door while the old man and his
wife were awake.
At last they ceased to talk, and Wade decided to make the attempt to
reach his chamber in the garret. He crept like a mouse to the buttery
door; but before he could come out he saw a form between himself and
a window, creeping into the kitchen from the back room. He could also
see that the back-door was left open. The figure was of about his own
height, and he did not suspect that it was a ghost or any other bird of
the night. He concluded at once that it was Matt Swikes returning from
some mischief-making tour. He knew that Matt did such things, and he
believed that he had burned the shanty by the creek.
Wade retreated to his former position behind the door of the pantry,
thinking that Matt only intended to pass through the kitchen to his own
room on the other side of the house. But the bad boy had other business
in the kitchen. The door of the farmer’s bedroom was closed, and Wade
had heard him lock it when he shut it. Matt struck a match, which threw
a little light on the subject. Wade watched him with intense interest,
and saw him place a chair before the mantle-piece, and then get up
into it. It was clear enough to the observer by this time, that the
objective point of the bad boy was the closet in which the money was
concealed.
Wade was filled with something like horror, as he saw Matt open the
door of the closet; and he hoped the little villain’s father would
wake, and discover what he was about. He knew that Matt was a bad boy,
but he had not supposed he was wicked enough to steal his father’s
money. He was on the point of interposing to prevent Matt from doing
so bad a thing, but a noise in the farmer’s chamber prevented him
from doing so. Besides, if he did so, Matt would lay it to him. But it
was evident that the lady of the house had been disturbed again, for
her voice could be heard in the bedroom. Matt took something from the
closet, put it in his pocket, and then stepped down from the chair. He
had put out his match, and Wade could see no more.
Matt was not a very cunning rogue, for he did not cover his tracks by
removing the chair in which he had stood. As soon as he had obtained
his booty, he retreated from the room by the back-door. He could hardly
have got out of the house before his father came from his chamber with
a candle in his hand. Wade was by this time alarmed for his own safety.
He might be found, and the crime of stealing the two hundred dollars
laid to him. They certainly would do so if he was found out of his room
at this time of night.
Farmer Swikes looked at the chair before the mantle-piece, and he knew
that he did not leave it there. He stopped to think about the matter
for a moment. That chair could not have been there when he put his hand
in the closet before: if it had been, he would have fallen over it.
“I am sure I heard somebody in the kitchen,” said Mrs. Swikes, in the
bedroom.
“This chair wasn’t here when I came out before,” replied Mr. Swikes:
“somebody has been here since I was.”
“Is the money safe?” asked the woman; and to her this was the great
question.
The farmer put the chair out of the way, and thrust his hand into
the closet. He felt all about for the old wallet that contained the
treasure. His heart came up into his throat when he missed it. He tried
to think just where he had placed it; but the little cupboard was not
more than six inches deep, and it could not have strayed very far. It
was not there; it was certainly gone. Somebody had stood in that chair,
and reached into the closet for the money.
“It is gone!” exclaimed farmer Swikes, as soon as he had satisfied
himself of the fact.
“Gone!” repeated Mrs. Swikes. “Who on airth could have taken it?”
When she had partially dressed herself, she came out into the kitchen;
and Wade saw on their faces an expression of utter despair. The boy of
all work was satisfied that it would not be prudent for him to step
out, and tell them their son was the thief. It would not be safe for
him to do so, after the experience he had had that day.
“It would been safer to put the money in the bank,” groaned farmer
Swikes.
“But who did it? It must be some one that knows about the house took
it,” added Mrs. Swikes.
“I found that chair under the mantletry-piece,” said the farmer, as he
pointed to the chair he had found directly under the closet.
“Then it must be somebody that couldn’t reach up to the closet without
gittin’ into a chair,” added the logical Mrs. Swikes. “It was some
boy; and I shouldn’t wonder if it was Wade Brooks. He’s bad enough to
do sich a thing. Run right up to the garret, Obed, and see if he is
there; and, if he is, sarch his pockets, and look all about the bed,”
continued the woman, as she lighted another candle for her husband’s
use on this mission.
“Oh, dear!” groaned Wade, not audibly, but in spirit. “They’ll find I’m
not there, and it will be all up with me.”
The farmer went up stairs, and his wife stepped into her chamber for
something as soon as he was gone. Wade took advantage of this momentary
uncovering of the position to open the cellar door; but he did not
trouble himself to close it, for fear that the noise might betray him.
He dared not go down the stairs; for, like every thing about the house,
they were old and rickety, and they would certainly creak when they
were expected not to do so. He was still in a position to hear what was
said in the kitchen.
“He isn’t there!” groaned Swikes, returning to the kitchen. “He’s gone,
and he may be half way to New York or some other place.”
“I knew he done it!” exclaimed the female Swikes.
“He done it because you licked him so in the evening,” groaned Swikes.
“He’s gone and done it now.”
“But we shall ketch him yet, and get the money back,” replied Mrs.
Swikes, who did not like to be considered as the cause of the loss.
“You’ll never see nothin’ more of that money,” added Swikes, with a
heavy sigh. “You might been a little easier with him, and let him had
some supper.”
“He didn’t do it because he was licked, but because he is a bad boy,”
retorted Mrs. Swikes. “I told you I was afraid he was corruptin’ our
boy.”
“He did it because he was licked with a green-hide; and boys won’t
allus stand every thing,” replied Swikes petulantly.
“Well, Obed, what are you a-doin’ on? while you stand here scoldin’ me,
that boy is gittin’ away.”
“What can I do?”
“Harness your horse, and drive down to the village; you may ketch him,
or hear sunthin’ on him.”
“What’s all that noise out doors?” said Swikes, as he went to the
window, and threw it wide open. “The bells is ringin’; and I hear folks
in the road yellin’.”
“There is a fire, as sure as you live!” exclaimed Mrs. Swikes, going to
the window. “I can see the light on’t on the corn-house.”
Swikes opened the door, and went out to the front of the house.
“It’s Garlick’s barn, as sure as you was born!” cried Mrs. Swikes.
“Somebody set that barn afire: it didn’t ketch without some help.”
They passed out of Wade’s hearing. He knew they must go to the front
of the house to see the barn which the woman said was on fire. They
would not be likely to come in for a few minutes; and Wade came out of
the cellar-way, and ran up to his room as fast as he could go, though
he was careful not to make any unnecessary noise. In a moment he had
gathered up all the clothes he had, consisting of a very indifferent
suit he wore in the winter, and made haste to leave the house by the
back door. He had not made up his mind what to do; but he made haste to
leave that house.
When he got out doors, he was afraid to leave the shadow of the house,
for the fire made it as light as day all around him. He got behind the
corn-house, where he could see the blazing barn: it was burning with
tremendous fury, and in a few minutes there would be nothing left of
it. Wade Brooks could form some idea of the person or persons who set
that fire: he thought he could see a little way into Matt Swikes’s
plans.