“Don’t tell me any more lies, you villain!” roared farmer Garlick. “Don’t tell me that this boy stole all the peaches, when I find he has none in his pockets, and yours are full of them.” “He asked us to keep them for him,” answered Matt, wishing to back up his friend; but the farmer gave him another dose for the lie he invented. “My boy, I am sorry I struck you with the whip; for I believe you did not go into the orchard,” said the farmer, turning to Wade.--“Give him three of the handsomest peaches of the lot.” “Lon Trustleton licked him because he would not go into the orchard,” said Jacob, as he gave Wade the fruit. “And he’ll do it again as soon as he gets a chance,” said Wade. “That’s so,” added Lon; and the remark cost him half a dozen cuts on the legs. “Now, Wade Brooks, you go along, and I will keep these fellows here till you are out of sight,” said the farmer. Wade went his way; and, when he was out of sight, Garlick told the thieves he had done with them till they stole some more of his fruit. It was no use for him to go to law to save his property, and he should look out for it himself. “You have not heard the last of this,” growled Lon, shaking his head in his wrath. “I will get even with you in some way. This will cost you more than all the peaches you will raise this year.” “It has given me some satisfaction, at any rate, whatever it may cost me. I want you to understand that a rich man’s son can’t rob me of my property without something being done.” The culprits departed as fast as their smarting legs would permit. CHAPTER II. SUPPERLESS TO BED. Wade Brooks had no long history to be related. He was an orphan, but not a foundling or any thing of that sort; and there is no chance of his turning out to be the son of an English baronet or of an American nabob. He was just what he seemed to be. His father had died a miserable sot, six months before the peach-orchard was invaded, and was buried at the expense of the town. Only a year before that event, his mother had passed away, the victim of a hard lot. But she had not lived in vain; for she was a good woman, and had left many good principles in the mind of her son and only child. No stone marked her resting-place in the churchyard, but her memory was preserved in the heart of her boy. Midhampton consisted of a considerable village, with a large farming territory. Not a few wealthy men who had made fortunes in the city had homes within its limits, for it was not more than sixty miles from New York City. On the river road were the residences of several such; though, after the highway passed the hill, it was bordered by no more handsome houses. The next dwelling was that of Philip Garlick, a decided man, who believed that his own property belonged to him. The next house was that of Obed Swikes, the father of Matthew Swikes. Matt was a bad boy; but he came honestly by the evil in his nature, for his father was the meanest man, by all odds, in the town of Midhampton.