Wade wondered where the bad boys were going in the boat; but he could only suppose they intended to get out of the way after the mischief they had done, and had no suspicion that they had embarked for a long voyage, as he would have called that to New York. Then he began to think what a hard life he had led on the farm of Obed Swikes. Why should he be starved and frozen, and compelled to work so many hours in the day? Why should he stay with Swikes when he was so hardly used? Why should he be constantly lashed by the peppered tongue of Mrs. Swikes? She told him, every day he lived, that he did not earn his salt, and she should have to send him to the poorhouse, where he belonged. If he was of so little use to the Swikeses, why should he stay with them any longer? He would not. He decided not to return to Midhampton. Wade began to think that he was becoming very independent. But it was better to pick his living out of the swill-barrels of a great city than it was to eat the bread that was daily begrudged to him, though he earned four times as much as he received. He knew this by the wages Swikes paid when he had to hire a man in haying-time. He could get something to do on a farm, that would enable him to earn his living; but, whether he could or not, he would no longer submit to be abused as he had been. He had often heard what a terrible thing it was for a boy to run away: but the Swikeses had no claim upon him; they were no relation to him, and they complained that he was a burden to them. He would relieve them of the burden. He had no master by rights; and he would be his own master in the future. While he was thinking of all these things, he saw Matt moving as though he intended to wake. He watched him, and made sure that his stick was where he could use it. But the Swikes did not get up, though it was clear enough that he was awake; and Wade kept his eye upon him. He sat where the fugitive could not see him. Matt lay on his back, and seemed to be reviewing the events of the night before. He put his hand into his pocket, and drew out the wallet he had stolen from the closet over the mantle-piece. He took from it the money it contained; and, laying the wallet on the hay by his side, he proceeded to count the bills, of which there was a large roll, and they must have been small ones. Matt spent a full hour in this pleasing occupation, for those who love money like to count it. But he seemed to be doing something more than merely counting it; for he laid off the bills in two piles, and then counted each of them several times, as though he could not make them come out right. Finally he put the two packages of bills into separate compartments of the wallet.