LODGINGS AFLOAT.
Wade Brooks felt like an innocent boy; and, being innocent, he was
not willing to accept the penalty of guilt. He was to be a sort of
sacrifice for the sins of Matt Swikes. Behind the corn-house he had
time to think what he should do. He felt that he needed a friend. He
wanted simple justice, which he could not get in the Swikes mansion.
Then it came to him that Mr. Garlick, after he had whipped him for what
he did not do, was sorry for his harshness, and had atoned for it by
giving him three of the handsomest peaches he had ever seen.
Mr. Philip Garlick was a just man, if he had taken the law into his own
hand. Wade was almost sure that Matt had something to do with burning
that barn. He had left the house in the night after his father and
mother had gone to bed. He had come back again, stolen the wallet from
the closet, and then left again. The fire broke out a short time after
he went out the second time. Perhaps Lon Trustleton was concerned with
him in the wicked deed. If so, they had burned the barn in revenge for
the whipping they had received from Mr. Garlick.
Wade Brooks was willing to tell Mr. Garlick what he knew about the
movements of Matt Swikes. He was certainly under no obligations to
the Swikeses, and he knew that it was not right to cover up a crime.
He would see Mr. Garlick in the morning, and tell him all he knew
about the business. It was not likely that Matt would be anywhere near
Midhampton in the morning, for it was plain to Wade that he had stolen
the money from the closet to pay his expenses on a runaway trip.
In fifteen minutes the fire had consumed all the matter in the barn
that would burn, and the light had subsided. Wade deemed it safe for
him to retreat now, and he moved off in the rear of the house. A short
walk brought him to the brook, which reminded him of the old sail-boat
his father had owned. The cuddy would be a good place for him to pass
the rest of the night, for there was some meadow hay in it for a bed.
This was the best arrangement he could think of for the night, and he
hastened to carry out the plan. When he reached the river road, which
he was obliged to cross to get to the creek, he saw several vehicles
approaching. He concluded that they were filled with persons who had
been to the fire, and he concealed himself under some bushes till they
had passed.
“The fire was set, you may depend upon it,” said a man in a wagon, as
he passed the place where Wade was concealed.
“I heard that Garlick suspects it was done by Capt. Trustleton’s son
and Swikes’s boy,” said another man in the wagon.
“I heard that; and also that Garlick had horsewhipped these boys for
stealing his peaches,” added the first speaker.
The wagon passed on, and Wade heard no more that was said. The truth
was coming out sooner than he expected. Though it was nothing but a
suspicion, it had a correct foundation. He wondered what Swikes and his
wife would say the next day when they heard the news. So far as Wade
knew, Matt’s father and mother had not discovered his absence from the
house. If his mother went to his chamber to tell him about the fire,
and found he was not there, she would naturally suppose he had seen it,
and gone to it.
Wade crossed the road as soon as the vehicles had all passed, and made
his way to the sail-boat in the creek. He hauled her in, and went on
board of her. For a boat so old, and which had been so much abused
since the death of her owner, she was very dry and tight. The night
was rather chilly, and Wade felt cold in his thin overalls. He dressed
himself in the clothes he had brought from his chamber. Rolling up the
garments he had taken off, he used the bundle for a pillow, and lay
down on the bed of hay. It was not the first time he had slept in the
boat; and, on the whole, he thought it was a better place than the
garret he occupied.
He closed the door of the cuddy so as to keep out the night air, and
fastened it on the inside, for the hook his father had put on the door
for this purpose was still available. Wade had worked very hard all
the day, to say nothing of the excitement he had passed through; and
he was tired and sleepy. He had eaten the brown bread taken from the
pantry while he was behind the corn-house; for he did not forget at any
time before that he was hungry, or not for more than a few minutes at a
time. He was therefore in good condition to go to sleep, and he did go
to sleep as soon as he was comfortable in his bed of hay.
It was not more than ten o’clock in the evening when the fire broke
out, and it was not after eleven when Wade went to sleep. He slept
very soundly, as a weary boy should. If any one had pounded on the
half-deck above his head, it would hardly have waked him. After the
fire had burned out all the remnants of Mr. Garlick’s barn, the people
of Midhampton went to their homes; and not even a detail of firemen was
left to watch the smouldering embers. No doubt the people of the town
slept better after they returned to their beds.
While the fire was still burning, Capt. Trustleton walked over to
the house of Obed Swikes. It was not till the worst of the fire was
subsided, that he appeared; and Wade had gone to the creek.
“I suppose you have heard the bad news,” said the captain to the
Swikeses, whom he found still in front of the old black house,
watching the dying-out of the fire.
“No! what bad news?” demanded Swikes, with a start.
“Haven’t you heard any thing about it?” continued the retired
shipmaster, in evident surprise.
“Heard about what? I don’t know what you are talking about,” replied
Swikes.
“I supposed you must have heard it, for it is in everybody’s mouth, and
it has come to me a dozen times since I came out of the house to see
where the fire was,” added Capt. Trustleton, still giving no hint of
the nature of the bad news.
“What’s in everybody’s mouth? I haven’t been any further from the house
than this; and I hain’t heerd a word about any thing,” said the puzzled
farmer.
“What on airth is it, Capt. Trustleton?” asked Mrs. Swikes, whose
curiosity had been roused to the highest pitch.
“It will come hard on you as it did on me when I first heard it,” added
the captain, who did not seem to be very willing to tell the hard news,
or at least to be the first to break it to the Swikeses. “It is said
that your boy and mine are concerned in setting that barn on fire.”
“Good gracious!” exclaimed farmer Swikes.
“It’s a wicked lie!” protested Mrs. Swikes.
“I hope it is, marm; but I confess it looks rather bad for the boys,”
replied Capt. Trustleton.
“I know it ain’t so!” repeated the woman. “My boy would no more do
such a thing than he would cut his father’s throat. Now I think on’t,
Matthew hasn’t been out of the house to-night. He was so tired that the
noise didn’t wake him, and he has slept through the whole on’t.”
“Are you sure of it, Mrs. Swikes?” asked the captain with deep
interest; for, if Matt was abed, it might be that his own boy was also
innocent.
“Of course I’m sure on’t,” replied the mother of the hopeful son. “I
haven’t seen nothin’ on him; and I know I should if he had been about.”
The heart of the captain sank within him as the hope died out of his
heart.
“I think you had better look into his chamber, and see whether he is
there,” suggested Capt. Trustleton.
“I’ll do it this minute; and you’ll find that Matthew hasn’t been out
of the house,” said Mrs. Swikes confidently.
She led the way into the house by the front door, followed by her
husband and the captain. Matt’s chamber opened out of the front entry;
and his mother, after getting the candle in the kitchen, passed into
the boy’s room. The solution was full of interest to the parents of
both of the bad boys, and the two fathers followed the confident mother
into the apartment of Matt.
The bed was empty. Capt. Trustleton had expected this result of the
investigation. He was afraid the charge against the boys was true.
“I was never so astonished in all my life!” exclaimed Mrs. Swikes. “I
was sure Matthew was in his bed. He is a very good boy, and I never
knew him to do any thing wrong.”
If she spoke the truth, she was almost the only one in town who had
never known Matt Swikes to do any thing wrong. But then, Matt was a
spoiled child.
“I have had a talk with Garlick; and he says he horsewhipped my boy
and yours for stealing his finest peaches,” said Capt. Trustleton. “He
thinks they set his barn on fire to be revenged on him.”
“But Matthew said it was Wade Brooks that stole the peaches,”
interposed Mrs. Swikes, “and then laid it to your boy and mine.”
“Garlick told me about that. It seems that Alonzo and Matthew laid it
to Wade; but the peaches were found on your son and mine.”
“I declare. I don’t believe my boy would steal peaches, or any thing
else,” persisted the mother of the hopeful son. “But we know that Wade
Brooks will steal, for husband had two hundred dollars in the house,
and he stole it this very night,” continued Matt’s mother.
“Wade stole it! Are you sure of that?” asked the captain.
“The money is gone, and so is Wade.”
“And so is Matthew,” added Capt. Trustleton.
“You don’t mean to say that you think my son stole the money?”
demanded the mother of Matt indignantly.
“I think it more likely than that Wade Brooks stole it,” replied the
captain. “This is a bad scrape for the boys, and it may cost them some
years in the penitentiary. I do not know that money will save them. If
it will, it will cost us about a thousand dollars apiece.”
Farmer Swikes groaned in anguish at the prospect.
“I am afraid the stealing of the money only shows that the boys are
guilty, and intend to clear out to avoid the penalty of the crime. The
money was stolen to pay the expenses of the journey. Perhaps I shall
find that my boy has robbed me of some money. We had better look these
things fairly in the face, and provide for the worst. I will see you
again in the morning.”
Capt. Trustleton departed for his elegant house; and he would have
given the whole of it to have his son out of this scrape. The Swikeses
had enough to keep them awake that night.