"Of course I know that those are not your right names," said the farmer, at length, "but I am not particular about that, for when I take you to the village to-morrow, I can find out all about you. What did you intend to do with those potatoes?"
"Eat 'em," answered Xury. "What else does a feller do with taters?"
"Have you eaten all the fruit and vegetables you have stolen during the last week?"
"Sartin."
"Well, I'll put you where you won't steal any more to-night. Josh, you and Bill take them down cellar and leave them there with the rats."
"That don't scare me none," said Xury. "I never saw no rats yet I was afraid of. What will you do with us in the mornin', mister?"
"I intend to break up these midnight plundering expeditions, by making an example of you. I shall take you before 'Squire Thompson."
"What do you reckon he'll do with us?"
"He will put you in the House of Refuge for three or four years, most likely, and I think that would be a good place for you. Take them away, boys."
Josh lighted a candle and led the way into the cellar, followed by Tom and his mate, Bill bringing up the rear. While the young farmers were examining the windows and door, to make sure that their prisoners could not escape, Tom took a hurried survey of his quarters, which he found to be cheerless in the extreme. Three sides of the cellar were supplied with windows—narrow apertures, placed about as high as his head from the floor, and protected by stout iron bars which were set into the walls. On the fourth side was a heavy door, secured by a padlock. Tom took these things in at a glance, and quite agreed with Josh, when he said,