"There, you can amuse yourself now as much as you like," said Temple, with a humor that Philip did not by any means appreciate. "You'll have a nice, easy time, with nothing to do."
He turned and left the hut, relieving Philip of his presence, which was one comfort, but did not go very far.
As my readers will conclude, Philip began to work his wrists up and down, vainly endeavoring to unloose the rope, but only succeeded in hurting himself. Next he tried his feet, but they, also, were securely confined.
It was a righteous retribution for the trick he had played on Harry Gilbert. He was being paid off in his own coin. Though his conscience was not particularly sensitive, it did occur to him that he was in precisely the same condition as the boy whom he and Congreve had left alone in the dark wood, fully expecting that he would have to remain all night.
But even then he could not be said to feel deep regret for his unworthy act. He was sensible of the inconvenience to which he was subjected by his constrained position, and began to chafe and fret under it.
"I wonder how long he's going to leave me here?" thought Philip, though, in truth, he hardly knew whether he wanted Temple to return or not.
"Just as soon as I get away, I'll ask pa to have him arrested. I wouldn't mind seeing him hung."
An hour pa.s.sed--about the longest hour Philip had ever known. At length his eager ears discerned steps outside the hut. It might be a friend! At any rate, he would call, and perhaps the call would bring rescue.
"h.e.l.lo, there!" he called out. "Come in; I need help!"
CHAPTER XXVI
PHILIP IS FORCED TO APOLOGIZE
There were two persons outside, one of whom was our hero, Harry Gilbert.
The other, though dressed in citizen's clothes, was an officer, who had been sent to arrest Temple, on a charge of being implicated with Vernon in the robbery of the tin box.
Harry at once recognized the voice of Philip, and it is needless to say that he was filled with genuine surprise.
"That must be Philip Ross," he said, in a low voice, to the officer.
"Who is Philip Ross?"
Harry gave a few words of explanation. He did not, however, mention the mean trick which Philip had played on him.
"He is not a friend of Temple?" asked the officer.
"Oh, no! He must have got into some trouble with Temple. Please stay here, and let me go in and see what is the matter. I have a reason for wishing him to think I am alone, just at first."
"Just as you say," returned the officer. "I take it for granted Temple isn't here, or the boy wouldn't have called. Suppose the man comes back?"
"Let him come in, and you can follow. Between us, I guess we can make him a prisoner."
"You have plenty of courage," said the officer. "Are you not afraid to have him come in upon you?"
"Not while you are near to help me," answered Harry. "In that cabin we could pen him up."
"That's true. Well, go in to your friend."
"A queer sort of a friend Philip is," thought Harry, but he did not object to the t.i.tle.
Opening the cabin door, which Temple had closed, Harry regarded Philip with amazement. He could hardly believe the testimony of his eyes when he saw his enemy, tied hand and foot, very much as he had been the night before.
"What's the matter, Philip?" he asked. "What has happened to you?"
"Can't you see for yourself," demanded Philip, querulously. "I'm tied so tight I can't move."
"Who did it?"
"That thief, Temple! I should like to wring his neck!" said Philip, spitefully.
Though Harry was not a vindictive boy, it did strike him as appropriate that Philip should have a chance to see for himself how it seemed to be bound. Deferring the gratification of his curiosity, he inquired:
"How do you like it?"
"How do I like it?" echoed Philip, furiously. "Don't ask such absurd questions, but come and untie me."
"Wait a minute," said Harry. "Perhaps you have forgotten that this is the way you and Congreve served me only last night. I suppose you thought it a good joke. Well, Ralph Temple has played the same joke on you."
"Joke!" repeated Philip. "He'll find out what kind of a joke it is when my father has him put in jail."
"Do you think he deserves to be put in jail just for that?"
"Yes, I do."
"Then it seems to me that you and your friend Congreve deserve the same punishment for what you did to me."
"It's entirely different; but stop talking and come and untie me."
"You didn't untie me. You left me to pa.s.s the night in the forest alone."
Philip eyed Harry attentively, and it struck him that perhaps it would be better to drop his haughty and domineering tone and temporize a little, if he wanted a rescue. He could afterward treat Harry as he pleased.
"I didn't think you'd make so much of a little matter like that," he said. "It was a mistake. I didn't mean you to stay all night. Congreve promised to go back and untie you. Didn't he do it?"
"No," answered Harry, dryly.
"Then he broke his promise. Just untie me, that's a good fellow, and I'll make it up to you. I've got two dollars in my pocket, and you may have them if you'll get me out of this sc.r.a.pe. Be quick, for Temple may be coming back, and he may kill us both."
"I don't want your two dollars, Philip," said Harry. "I am ready to release you without that----"
"Quick, then; that's a good fellow."
"Hear me out. I was going to say, on one condition."
"What is it?" asked Philip, impatiently.
"That you will beg my pardon for the trick you played on me," said Harry, quietly.