"Were you asleep, Richard, on these two nights when you have been prowling about the neighborhood?" demanded his father, sternly.
"No, sir, I was not," said Richard, to whom the ridicule of Mr. Presby and uncle Obed was more terrible than any punishment he could receive for his misdeeds.
"I am glad to see you have some honesty left in your composition. You acknowledge the deception, and we will let the farce end here. You have become a thief and a midnight incendiary. I have been weak and indulgent towards you. My eyes are opened, and I shall pursue a different course."
Mr. Grant's lip trembled with emotion as he spoke. Mr. Presby and uncle Obed suddenly became very serious, and it was plain to the culprit that the farce had really ended.
"Richard, I knew you were wild, and even dissolute, but I did not think you would steal," added Mr. Grant, with deep feeling.
"It was only for fun, father," pleaded Richard.
"Do you practise the trade of the incendiary for fun?" asked his father, sternly.
"That was only because Mr. Batterman flogged me. He had no business to do that."
"And so you would burn his barn?"
"I didn't burn it."