ghing was fairly
well done, but Hiram Tinch could see no merit in the work. He swore at
Archie again, and gave him a supper of mush and milk. Mrs. Tinch sat by,
and Archie could see that she did not approve of his treatment. The poor
woman seemed afraid to speak, almost, but it was plain that she had a
good heart. So when Archie heard a noise in his garret room that night,
he was not surprised to see Mrs. Tinch at the window, placing some
doughnuts and sandwiches there for him to eat.

CHAPTER V.

THE NIGHT AMONG THE RUINS--THE CAMP-FIRE OF THE TRAMPS.

IT seemed to Archie that he had just fallen asleep when old Hiram Tinch
was shaking him awake. "Git up out o' here now, ye lazy beggar, and
git to the field and finish that there ploughin'," he growled, and the
frightened lad awakened from a horrible nightmare, only to find a worse
experience awaiting him in the light of day. He hastily drew on his
trousers, and didn't wait to don either shoes or stockings, for if he
was to spend the day ploughing in a field, he knew he would be more
comfortable in his bare feet. When he reached the kitchen, he found
that Farmer Tinch had already eaten his breakfast, though it was not
daylight. Archie was glad that he was out of the way, and good Mrs.
Tinch was glad of it, too, for she was able to give the boy a good
breakfast, and some good advice with it. "Don't you pay no attention to
what my man says, laddie. He's a powerful man to swear and carry on, but
I don't think he'll have the meanness to strike you. Ef he does, ye must
come to me, and I'll see thet he doesn't do it no more."

Archie was grateful for this spirit of friendliness, but in his heart
he thought that cruel words were often more painful than lashes, and he
heartily wished that his week was over.

All this day he spent on the farm, without once going into the road.
Farmer Tinch had warned him that if he saw him making for the road at
any time, he could go and never come back, and he would forfeit what
money he had already earned. So Archie ploughed the field from daylight
till dark, with a half hour at noon for a hurried dinner. He was glad
when darkness came, and after another supper of mush and milk he was
thankful to have a corn-husk bed to sleep on, and was soon in a stupor
which was so sound as to be almost like death.

Again the next morning he was awakened at daylight, and he was made
to work even harder than on the second day. He had by this time