CHAPTER VIII.

THE BATTLE IN THE BOAT.

Lon Trustleton may be excused for being astonished at the very remarkable conduct of Wade Brooks, who had never before lifted a finger against his persecutors. All of a sudden he had struck a blow which upset his foe as though he had been a baby. But Lon was not badly damaged, though he saw a numerous body of stars. He picked himself up; and, as he had plenty of pluck, he rushed upon the object of his wrath, intending to take the stick from him, and use it over his head.

But Wade was not asleep; and he was prepared for his assailant. Before Lon could get hold of him or the stick, another blow fell on his head, and he staggered back towards the cuddy. The second blow wilted him; and, though he was very angry, he found it necessary to be prudent. He stood by the door of the cuddy, with his fists doubled up, and his chest heaving with the fury of his rage, regarding his enemy with mingled astonishment and indignation. The noise of the encounter had waked Matt; and he crawled out of the cuddy to ascertain the cause of the tempest.

If Lon had been surprised to see Wade Brooks in the boat, Matt was still more so. He could not realize how it was possible for him to be there, for he had seen him go up to his garret to bed the night before. Both Lon and himself had slept in the cuddy, and certainly the boy of all work had not been in the standing-room when he retired. A little reflection led him to the conclusion that Wade could not have been in the boat during the night. He thought he could explain it: a party had set out to pursue them, and Wade had followed the boat down the river on the shore, and had come on board of her in the morning. The water was very shallow where the boat was anchored, and he could have waded off to her.

“Wade Brooks here!” exclaimed he, when he found a tongue.

“Yes; and he has hit me twice over the head with that stick,” replied Lon, still eying the enemy with a savage gaze.

“How came he here? when did he come into the boat?” asked Matt, though he had settled all these questions in his own mind before he said a word.

“He says he went to sleep in the boat last night, and we sailed off with him,” replied Lon. “Is there any kind of a club in the cuddy, Matt? We are in for a fight; and I will break that fellow’s head, as I told you I would.”

“We are going to divide up the broken heads more than they used to be,” said Wade coolly; for he had made up his mind for this thing, and he was ready for whatever might come.

Matt looked for a stick; but the stock of fish-pole in the boat had given out when Wade was supplied. Nothing could be found but the pieces of the door Lon had stove in the night before. These were all small, and no club was at hand. But Lon picked up the splinters, and began to hurl them at his foe. He cast them with all his might; and, if any of them had hit Wade in the head, they would have hurt him.

“That will do of that,” said Wade, gathering up his stick again. “Don’t you fling another one of them at me!”

“Yes, I will! I’ll break your head before I’ve done with you!” replied Lon; and he picked up what was left of the door, intending to overwhelm his antagonist in one crushing blow.

But Wade did not wait for him to get the door in position: he rushed upon him, and began to belabor him over the shoulders with the stick. Lon howled with rage and pain, and vainly struggled to get hold of the stick or his assailant. But Wade was too much for him. As for Matt, he made for the cuddy as soon as Wade began to press his companion. After a brief contest, Lon went down under the force of the blows that were rained upon him.

“When you want any more, all you got to do is to say so,” said the conqueror. “I didn’t begin this fight; but I’m going to see the end of it.”

“You don’t fight fair,” gasped Lon, using the common argument of the defeated bully.

“I fight any way I can. I don’t believe in fighting at all, and I never did any such thing before in my life,” replied Wade, still holding his weapon ready for use. “You’ve always hit me just when you had a mind to, and I have always stood it; but I’m not going to stand it any more. When you hit me, I’m going to hit back again, whatever comes of it. I won’t hurt anybody that lets me alone.”

“Why didn’t you stand by me, Matt Swikes?” demanded Lon, as Matt crawled out of the cuddy again; which he did not do till Wade had assumed a more peaceable aspect.

“I wasn’t going to be hit over the head with that stick,” replied Matt, seating himself by the door of the cuddy.

“You’re a coward, Matt Swikes, as you always were; and I have half a mind to hit you over the head,” added Lon, disgusted with his companion, and entirely unable to account for his defeat in a battle with a fellow whom he had always regarded as an insignificant foe.

“It’s no use to call names: they won’t hurt anybody,” growled Matt, who could not see why his crony should turn against him. “You’ve licked Wade Brooks times enough to know how to do it; and I don’t think it is fair for two of us to set on one fellow.”

“Not fair, you ninny!” exclaimed Lon, slapping the face of his companion in crime.

“What are you hitting me for? I haven’t touched you. You needn’t lick me because you can’t lick Wade,” whined Matt. “I’ve got about enough of this thing.”

“I’ll bet they are looking for you at home about this time,” interposed Wade; “and the best thing you can do is to go back before you’ve made the matter any worse.”

“I’ve half a mind to do it,” replied Matt, who was so much injured in his feeling by the blow of Lon, that he could not help crying. “I’m not going off to New York with Lon, to be kicked and slapped as if I wasn’t nobody.”

“Shut up, Matt!” said Lon sharply. “What do you mean by telling him what we are going to do?”

“I’m not going to do any thing, if I’m to be treated in this way.”

“Keep still,” continued Lon in a gentler tone. “I was mad, and I didn’t mean any thing. Don’t mind it, Matt, and I won’t do it again.”

It was a great deal for Lon to say any thing in the shape of an apology; and the insulted Matt was appeased at once. He wanted to go to New York; and he did not like the idea of going home to take the consequences of setting the barn on fire. Lon seated himself opposite his companion in crime, as though he had concluded that it was best to suspend hostilities, at least for the present.

“I didn’t sleep much last night, and I was out of temper when I got up,” said Lon, who was willing to make peace, even with Wade Brooks, rather than give up the expedition, as he was afraid that Matt might be persuaded to do; and he had all the money, so it was not possible to go without him.

“I don’t see what made you turn on me,” replied Matt, wiping the tears from his eyes.

“I didn’t mean to do it. The sight of Wade Brooks here in the boat with us made me mad. But perhaps it is all for the best. Wade knows how to sail a boat better than I do; and he will do that for us.”

“No, I won’t,” replied Wade squarely.

“How came you in the boat, Wade?” asked Matt, as it occurred to him that this matter had not yet been cleared up.

“I came on board of her to sleep after the fire,” replied Wade, who was willing to tell all he knew about almost any subject.

“What did you want to sleep in the boat for? Why couldn’t you sleep in your own bed in the house?”

“There was a good reason for it.”

Wade considered a moment; and then he concluded to tell the whole story.

“What was the reason?” asked Matt.

“I’ll tell you all I know about it; and I know more than you think I do,” replied Wade, looking Matt sharp in the eye. “You lied to your mother when you told her I stole the peaches; and she sent me to bed without any supper. I was so confounded hungry that I could not go to sleep; and I got up, and went down to the buttery to get something to eat. I was in there when you got up in that chair, and took the money out of that closet over the mantle-piece.”

“What money?” asked Matt, turning pale, and trembling with terror.

“I guess you know what money as well as I do. The money that was in the closet. You stole it, and then cleared out.”

“Do you mean to say that I stole any money, Wade Brooks?” demanded Matt, making a lame attempt to bluster, which was a failure.

“That’s just what I mean to say, and I do say it. It’s no use to deny it.”

“Let him go on,” added Lon, in a low tone.

“I deny that I took any money from any closet,” said Matt; “but go on with your story.”

“I guess I could prove that you did it, right here, if I had a mind to,” added Wade.

He was tempted to do so, and to take the money from his pocket as evidence of what he asserted; but just then it came into his mind, that, if Matt knew he had it, he would say he stole it; and, if he went back to Midhampton, the possession of the two hundred dollars might be evidence that he did steal it. If he told Mrs. Swikes that her son took the wallet, she would not believe him. Wade concluded not to say just yet that he had the plunder.

“I don’t see what all this has to do with sleeping in the boat.”

“That’s what I was going to tell you when you broke in on me. After you took the money, your father came out of the room. Your mother said she heard somebody in the house, and told your father to see if the money in the closet was all right. He felt in the closet, and found that it was gone. In that house they always lay every thing to me, and your mother said I must have taken it.”

“If any money was taken, I guess you did,” interposed Matt; and, if he was caught, he could lay it to him with a full knowledge of the case.

“You know better, Matt Swikes; but no matter now. Your father went up to the garret, and found I was not there. Then they were sure I took the money. I’d been licked once that day for what I didn’t do, and I couldn’t stand it again. Just then the fire broke out, and your father and mother went out of the house; and I hooked it out, and after a while went down to the boat to sleep. I meant to call on Mr. Garlick this morning, and tell him what I knew about matters and things in general. That’s why I slept in the boat.”