Without waiting to investigate this statement, Mrs. Swikes, who was a great raw-boned woman,--her husband had married her because he thought she would be able to do a good deal of work,--seized poor Wade, and dragged him from his chair at the table, upsetting his bowl of milk, and pitched him on the floor. The boy was an infant in her grasp, and he did not offer any resistance. The Amazon gazed at her prostrate victim, while her eyes glowed with hate and rage; then, resorting to a masculine accomplishment, she savagely kicked him in the ribs. “I didn’t steal any peaches,” pleaded Wade, as humbly as the case seemed to require: “I didn’t touch one of them.” “Yes, he did, mother. He told Garlick we did it; and Garlick give him three peaches for telling,” howled Matt, still blubbering like a baby. “Mr. Garlick did give me three peaches, but it was because he licked me when I did not deserve it,” pleaded Wade. “You can ask Mr. Garlick, and he will tell you the same thing.” “Ketch me asking Garlick any thing about it!” exclaimed Mrs. Swikes furiously. “I’ll take it out of his hide for licking my boy.” Wade was entirely willing she should do this, if she did not take it out of his own hide, which she was more likely to do. “He licked Lon Trustleton too; and, if you ask him, he will tell you just what I say,” whined Matt. Mrs. Swikes seized a green-hide, which was her husband’s wagon-whip, and began to belabor poor Wade with it. It was a terrible instrument of torture when applied to a boy’s skin, covered only with a pair of thin overalls. The boy did not cry out with the pain, for he had found that it did no good, and, the more he screamed, the worse he got it; but he could not endure the blows, and he made a spring for the open door. Mrs. Swikes followed him, and attempted to catch him; but, goaded by the instinct of self-preservation, he succeeded in getting out of the way. “Stop, you rascal!” shouted the Amazon. “Do you mean to run away from me? I’ll give you a double dose for this.” “What’s the matter now?” demanded Mr. Swikes, coming in from the barn at this point in the difficulty. The angry woman told him what the matter was; and Wade rested while she was doing so. He did not think it was prudent to run away. He felt that Mrs. Swikes’s promise would be redeemed, and he wished to make the penalty as light as possible. The father was as indignant as the mother had been at the punishment bestowed upon the only male hope of that old black house; but he was sometimes more reasonable than his wife. In a low tone he told her she must not lick the boy with a green-hide: they might have her up before the court for cruelty, as had been the case with Ethan Small. He would punish the boy. Possibly he had a suspicion that Wade told the truth, and Matt the lies. But Wade had been whipped enough, even if the charge against him was true; and he escaped any further beating, though he was sent to bed without his supper.