Arrived before the farmhouse, he looked cautiously up to the
windows, but could see no light burning.

"The coast is clear," he thought. "I wish it were all over, and I
were on my way home."

Dick had not reconnoitered thoroughly. There was a light burning
in a window at the other end of the house.

The pig-pen was a small, rough, unpainted building, with a yard
opening from it. Around the yard was a stone wall, which
prevented the pigs from making their escape. They were now, as
Dick could with difficulty see, stretched out upon the floor of
the pen, asleep.

Dick proceeded to remove a portion of the stones forming the
wall. It was not very easy or agreeable work, the stones being
large and heavy. At length he effected a gap which he thought
would be large enough for the pigs to pass through. He next
considered whether it would be better to disturb the slumbers of
the pigs by poking them with a hoe, or wait and let them find out
the avenue of escape in the morning. He finally decided to stir
them up. He accordingly went round to the door and, seizing a
hoe, commenced punching one of the pigs vigorously.

The pig whose slumbers were thus rudely disturbed awoke with a
loud grunt, and probably would have looked astonished and
indignant if nature had given him the power of expressing such
emotions.