CHAPTER V.

HOW IT WAS DONE.

Mrs. Swikes hardly closed her eyes on the night of the fire; and half a dozen times before morning she went to Matt’s room to see whether he had returned or not. He was not seen again that night.

When Capt. Trustleton reached his magnificent house, he went to the chamber of Alonzo to see if he was there. The room was without its occupant, though it was eleven o’clock. The bed was not tumbled, and the son had not been into it. The captain was a widower; so that there was no mother in this beautiful home to worry over the departure of a son, and to grieve over his error.

But where were Lon and Matt? The son of the rich man had threatened Mr. Garlick, and declared that he would “get even with him.” It now appeared that he had done so. Possibly Garlick believed by this time that it did not pay to protect his own property in just the way he had done it, though his barn and the stock it contained were fully insured. He had an idea that those boys would spend a long term in prison. He was not sure that the boys had set the fire, and perhaps he could not prove it; but he was very well satisfied in his own mind, and so were his two hired men.

Lon and Matt had agreed to meet near the house of the latter at nine o’clock in the evening. The Swikeses went to bed in summer as soon as it was dark, not only to save candles, but to be in condition to get up as soon as it was light in the morning. Matt had been punctual to the time; but Lon was half an hour late, for his father was in such a position that he could not get out of the house any sooner. They were ready to do the wicked job to which their smarting limbs still prompted them. But Lon was wise enough to look up the means of retreat before the battle was fought.

If they were seen in the vicinity of the burning barn, it would be evidence against them. The first blaze of light might betray them to Garlick and his hired men. Perhaps Lon was not a worse boy than his companion; but he had more genius for mischief, and more calculation in getting out of a scrape.

“It won’t do for us to be seen anywhere near the barn when the blaze begins,” said he, after they had talked it over in the cornfield near the doomed building.

“But we can’t do any thing without being near it,” reasoned Matt.

“We must get out of the way before the people come to the fire; and it won’t do for us to show ourselves on the river road.”

“How shall we get home, then?”

“I’ll tell you the best way to do it,” said Lon, who fathered all the bright thoughts. “I will go home, and make sure that my father sees me before I go to bed; and you will do the same with your folks. You live close by the barn; and you can get out of bed, come over here, and touch off the fire, and then get back to your room, without being seen.”

“And where will you be all the time I am doing this?” asked Matt; and the idea did not strike him as a very bright one.

“I shall be in my bed, sound asleep, so far as my father may know; and I shall not go out of the house, or know any thing about the fire, till to-morrow morning. Then I shall be very much surprised at breakfast-time when my father tells me that Garlick’s barn has been burned in the night. I shall ask him what time it was, and all about it.”

“That’s all very nice for you,” replied Matt coldly, and without giving his friend much credit for his inventive genius.

“Don’t you think that’s a good plan?” asked Lon, with no little enthusiasm.

“First-rate for you, but not worth a straw for me,” answered Matt. “You are going to do nothing at all, and I am to do it all: you are going to bed, and I am to do the job.”

“But you live close by the barn, while I live half a mile from it. You can make the blaze without any risk; and if I am caught it will make it just as bad as for you.”

“I’m not going to do the thing all alone, and run all the risk. If that is the way you mean to manage it, we will give it up, and go home and go to bed.”

“I only mentioned that as one way.”

“It’s no way at all.”

“Very well, then I will stay with you. But what are we to do when the blaze breaks out?” asked Lon.

“We must get out of the way, I suppose,” added Matt vacantly.

“We must keep clear of the river road. I think we shall have to stay out all night; and then we shall be sure to be suspected.”

It was a hard problem to adjust, and Lon beat his brains till he hit on something that pleased him.

“If we only had some money, I should be in for going to New York. We could have a good time for two or three weeks; and by that time your father and mine could fix up the matter of burning the barn, if they lay it to us.”

“They will lay it to us if we clear out,” added Matt.

“But they can’t prove any thing: and I rather want Garlick to think we did the job,” added Lon, rubbing his sore legs; “but I don’t want him to be able to prove it.”

“I don’t believe he will be able to prove any thing, for the barn is a long way from his house: and I know his hired men do not live with him, but over in the village.”

“If we only had some money, I could fix it all in two seconds,” continued Lon. “If my father had any about the house, I would help myself.”

“Perhaps I can raise some,” suggested Matt, as he thought of the wallet concealed in the closet over the mantle-piece.

“If you can, we shall be all right.”

“You hold on here for three minutes, and I will see what I can do,” said Matt.

“How long will you be?” asked Lon.

“Not more than five or ten minutes.”

Matt returned to his father’s house; and the events before related occurred while Wade Brooks was looking through the crack of the pantry door. Matt obtained possession of the wallet, and went back to the cornfield.

“Did you get it?” asked Lon.

“I did.”

“How much?”

“About two hundred dollars,” replied Matt; and we will do him the justice to say that he trembled all over, he was so agitated by the crime he had committed.

“Two hundred dollars!” exclaimed Lon. “That is a big haul.”

“If it’s too much, I will carry part of it back; for my father will howl terribly when he finds it is all gone,” replied Matt.

“The more the better,” added Lon lightly. “Now we are in condition to do business. My father says no one should ever attempt to do business without capital; and I shall heed his opinion.”

Matt did not seem to feel that he was doing more than his share of the business; but then he had the honor of being a friend of the rich man’s son, and that was something.

“Well, now tell us what you are going to do,” said he with deep interest; so deep that for a time he forgot the crime he had already committed, in his desire to add another to it.

“There is no trouble about it now. We can manage it now as easy as you can fall off a wood-pile. Money makes the mare go; and we can reward old Phil Garlick for his kindness to us, without making anybody weep but himself,” rattled Lon; in whose mind there was a vision of a “good time” in New York, with plenty of theatre, fun, and frolic.

“Well, why don’t you tell how it is to be done?” said Matt impatiently.

“I will tell you all about it,” answered Lon, who had no intention of bothering his companion, and had only delayed the explanation of his plans because his thoughts were running faster than his words. “In the first place, the barn is between the road and the river. As soon as we have got the things ready for the blaze, we will touch them off, and then make for the river; then we shall meet nobody to molest or make us afraid.”

“That’s good,” added Matt approvingly.

“Of course it is; and there is no such thing as fail about this plan. We will keep out of sight in the bushes by the river, till everybody in town has gone to sleep.”

“Do you mean to stay in that hole till morning?” asked Matt, who did not like the idea.

“Not at all; only till the folks are gone. You see, it wouldn’t do to move about while the people are looking at the fire, for we should be seen.”

“But won’t the engines come to the river for water?” suggested Matt.

“No: the pond at the foot of the hill isn’t half as far from the barn as the river, and they will take water from that. Nobody will come near us, you may depend upon that.”

“Where shall we go after the folks in town have all gone to bed?” asked Matt.

“About midnight we will follow the river up to the creek, and go on board of the old sail-boat. There is a nice little breeze blowing now, and it would carry us down to the Sound in two or three hours.”

“Bully for you, Lon!” exclaimed Matt, who was delighted with this plan.

He had often thought of making a trip to the Sound in this boat; for, like most boys, he was fond of adventure. In accordance with this plan, the young villains made their way to the barn. Lon had prepared the combustibles. He had a slow-match, which was to burn down when they had placed half a mile or more between themselves and the barn; then it was to light a bunch of block matches, and this would communicate the fire to a heap of combustibles under the floor of the barn. Unfortunately, every thing worked as had been intended, and the boys were in their hiding-place some time before the fire broke out. Of course no one would see them in the road, or anywhere near the fire.

Each kept up the courage of the other; and, if either had been alone, he would not have had the pluck to do the evil deed. If they had been alone they might have repented of the crime, and considered the consequences; but they talked of the trip to New York, and stifled their consciences with the glories of the excursion to the great city. It was late in August; and the weather was pleasant, though rather cool at night. It would be fine sailing on the Sound. At midnight they walked to the creek, and got into the old boat.