Matt ate his supper, which was a better meal than that provided for the boy of all work, and he went to bed with a full stomach. The young villain was not half so badly damaged as he pretended to be. His legs did smart in the first of it, but he got over this before he reached his father’s house. But Wade’s complaining stomach did not allow him to sleep. He lay till he thought the family were all asleep; and then he left his garret, and crept down the stairs, which landed in the back room. All the family slept on the first floor, and Wade paused at the foot of the stairs to ascertain if any one was stirring. It was very dark in the back room, but he heard sounds as of some one creeping across the room. He retreated up two steps, and then saw the back-door opened. By the light it let in, he saw Matt go out, and close the door. CHAPTER III. WHAT HAPPENED IN THE NIGHT. For a moment, Wade forgot that he was hungry. Matt was up to something. He moved as though he was not very lame. Wade opened the door, and looked to see which way the young rascal went. He saw him take the river road towards the village. Then Wade made his way to the pantry, where he found plenty of brown bread, but no butter or any thing else that was eatable; for Mrs. Swikes did not leave white bread (when there was any in the house) and pies where they could tempt the boy of all work. She thought he might be wicked enough to help himself. When he had secured all he wanted, he put out the match he had lighted, and was about to bear his plunder to the garret where he could appease his hunger without danger, when he heard the door of Mr. Swikes’s chamber opened. It was next to the kitchen. Poor Wade felt that he was in a scrape. Taking a few pieces of black bread was a high crime for him to commit in that house. The pantry was large, and he crawled behind the door. “I’m sure I heard some one in the kitchen,” said Mrs. Swikes; and she was one of those who often insist upon finding a man in the house. “I guess you was dreaming,” replied Mr. Swikes. “No, I wasn’t: I heard the floor squeak as it does when any one treads on it,” persisted the woman. “You’ve got two hundred dollars of money hid in that closet, and it’s worth coming here arter.” “But nobody knows I’ve got it.” “Strike a light, and see if it is safe,” continued Mrs. Swikes in the chamber. The farmer did light a candle; and, through a crack of the pantry door, Wade saw him put his hand in the lower left-hand corner of the closet over the fireplace. “It’s all right,” said Mr. Swikes, when he had completed his examination: “I don’t believe there is anybody in the house that don’t belong here.”