“One summer night, shortly afterward, he led a gang of desperadoes like himself against the dwelling of an old man named Farr.  There were but three persons in the house—­the old man, his wife, and daughter.  They barricaded their door and defended themselves for a while, but Fenton broke in a part of the door, fired through the hole at the old man and broke his leg.  The women could not keep them out much longer; they soon forced an entrance, murdered the old man and woman, and badly wounded the daughter.  She, however, made her escape, and the cowardly ruffians fled without waiting to secure any plunder; no doubt fearing she would bring a band of patriots to avenge the slain.”

“I hope that wretch, Fenton, was soon caught and well punished for his robberies and murders!” exclaimed Lulu.

“He was,” replied Grandma Elsie.  “The Bible tells us that ’bloody and deceitful men shall not live out half their days,’ and Fenton’s fate was one amongst many to prove the truth of it.

“He had met a young man on his way to mill, plundered and beaten him; the victim carried his complaint to Lee, and a sergeant and two soldiers were detailed to capture or kill Fenton.

“They used strategy and with success.  The two soldiers were secreted under some straw in the bottom of a wagon, the sergeant disguised himself as a countryman, and the young man took a seat in the vehicle.  Then they drove on toward the mill, expecting to meet Fenton on the road.  They were passing a low groggery among the pines, when he came out of it, pistol in hand, and impudently ordered them to stop.

“They drew rein, and he came nearer, asking if they had brandy with them.  They replied that they had, and handed him a bottle.  Then, as he lifted it to his lips, the sergeant silently signaled to one of his hidden soldiers, who at once rose from his hiding place in the straw and shot Fenton through the head.  His body was then thrown into the wagon and carried in triumph to Freehold.”

“The people of that part of the country must have felt a good deal relieved,” remarked Rosie.  “Still there were Fenton’s desperado companions left.”

“Two of them—­Fagan and West—­shared Fenton’s fate, being shot by the exasperated people,” said her mother; “and West’s body was hung in chains, with hoop iron bands around it, on a chestnut tree hard by the roadside, about a mile from Freehold.”

“O Grandma Elsie, is it there yet?” asked Gracie, shuddering with horror.

“No, dear child, that could hardly be possible after so many years—­more than a hundred you will remember when you think of it,” returned Mrs. Travilla, with a kindly reassuring smile.

“I hope papa will take us to Freehold,” said Lulu.  “I want to see the battleground.”

“I feel quite sure he will, should nothing happen to prevent,” said Grandma Elsie.

“Wasn’t it at Freehold, or in its neighborhood, that a Captain Huddy was murdered by those pine robbers?” asked Evelyn.