In the rear of his dwelling was a tolerably large lot, which he had enclosed with a high paling, so as effectually to prevent his neighbors from watching his movements, and here he had resided for years, entirely alone. The delicious fruits and vegetables of that sunny clime and fruitful soil, which constituted his only food, were brought to his door for sale; and his habits of untiring industry enabled him easily to dispense with the attendance of a domestic. As he was not known to make any deposit or investment of the money he received, a notion generally obtained, that he was in the habit of burying it somewhere in the lot of ground which he had fenced in so carefully. Following up this idea, a plot had been laid by some desperadoes, to discover, if possible, the place of concealment, and possess themselves of the treasure. Three of them, one night, scaled the fence, and concealing themselves behind some empty hogsheads, awaited the coming forth of their intended victim, who, they conjectured, would visit his hidden treasure. Their motions, however, did not escape the vigilance of Mr. Waring. He came forth, it is true, and they rushed upon him, but two of them received the contents of a blunderbuss, by which they were instantly killed, and before the third recovered from his surprise, he was cut down by the blow of a sabre. The noise of course occasioned an alarm, and a crowd collected to inquire into the cause. All information was refused, however, until the civil authorities should be present. They were sent for, and, upon their arrival, Mr. Waring unbarred his door, and led the way into the yard. “I have been saving the courts and the hangman trouble,” said the gray-haired old man, as he pointed, with a grim smile, to the bodies that lay drenched in gore; “take the carrion away.” From that time this singular being remained unmolested, by either the intrusions of curiosity, or the assaults of villainy. The house that I occupied was within a few doors of his, and the business in which I was engaged led to some transactions between us. It so happened, that in examining my books, I detected an overcharge which had been made against him by the inadvertence of one of my clerks. I of course hastened to inform him of the error, and to correct it. It was with some little difficulty that I persuaded him of the fact, but when it was made clear to him, he fixed his large eyes upon me with a peculiar expression, and taking my hand, pressed it with warmth. “I do not thank you,” said he, “merely for the trouble you have taken, or for the information you have given, which has enabled me to save, though a small sum of money, yet an important one to me. These, however, merit, and they have my gratitude; but I thank you, more particularly, for exhibiting a trait of honesty that my experience had scarcely led me to expect among the merchants of this place. You are from Virginia, I believe?”