Home > Authors Index > Horatio Alger > Tin Box > This page
The Tin Box, a novel by Horatio Alger |
||
Chapter 19. Second Visit To The Wood |
||
| < Previous |
Table of content |
Next > |
|
________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER XIX. SECOND VISIT TO THE WOOD There was an early train from the neighboring village of Crampton to New York. Harry got up early, and walked the first part of the way through the fields to a point where the footpath struck the main road, three-quarters of a mile from the village. In this way it happened that he was not seen by any of his companions, and his day's expedition was kept a secret. Just after breakfast James Congreve received a call at the hotel from Philip. "Our friend in the wood must be hungry by this time," said James. "Ho, ho!" laughed Philip, in evident enjoyment. "It's a splendid joke." "I fancy he doesn't think so," said Congreve, shrugging his shoulders. "Of course he doesn't. He must have been fully scared, staying there all night." "He doesn't strike me as a boy who would easily be frightened," "At any rate, he must be hungry," said Philip, in a tone of satisfaction. "I guess he'll find it doesn't pay to insult me." "Well, he's had enough of it; we'll go and release him." "What for?" "You don't want him to stay there all day, do you?" demanded Congreve. "It wouldn't do him any harm," muttered Philip. "What a mean fellow you are, Philip! You ought to be satisfied with keeping him there all night." "I wish you wouldn't call me names," said Philip, pettishly. "Don't deserve them, then. Well, are you coming with me?' "I don't know; it's a good ways," said Philip, hesitating. "Just as you like. I am going. I told the boy I would, and I mean to keep my promise." And James Congreve stepped off the piazza and started. "Oh, well, I'll go, too. I want to see how he looks," said Philip, and began to laugh. "Take care how you laugh at him there, Phil, or he may pitch into you." "You won't let him, will you, James?" said Philip, apprehensively. "I thought you were a match for him," said Congreve, with an amused smile. "So I am, but he might take me unawares. He'll be so mad, you know." "I'll protect you," said Congreve. "Come along." Both boys would have liked to learn whether Harry had been missed at home, and what was thought of his disappearance; but there seemed to be no one to ask, and, for obvious reasons, they did not care to show any curiosity on the subject. "I'd like to meet Mr. Wilkins," said Philip. "He boards there, you know, and he might say something about it." "Mr. Wilkins is your uncle, isn't he?" "He's a distant relation of ma's," said Philip, reluctantly. "We don't know much about him." "I suppose he's poor?" suggested Congreve, drily. "Oh, dear, yes! He was a farmer or something out in Illinois. He probably pays a dollar or two a week board at Gilberts'. They're dreadfully poor, you know. I shouldn't be surprised if all hands were in the poorhouse before the year is out." "Your uncle and all?" "He isn't my uncle!" said Philip, snappishly. "Relative, then. You wouldn't want a relative in the poorhouse?" "Pa offered to pay his expenses back to Illinois, but the old fellow was obstinate and wouldn't go. I expect he's hanging round here in hopes of getting something out of pa and ma; but it's no use, as he'll find out sooner or later." "Strange he went to board with the Gilberts, isn't it?" "Oh, it's a good enough place for a rusty old chap like him. He ain't used to living in any style. Ma says he's half crazy." By this time they had reached the borders of the wood, and soon they came to the place where Harry had been left bound. "Why, he isn't here!" exclaimed Philip, in surprise and disappointment. "So it appears." "How could he have got away?" James Congreve, bending over, searched carefully, and at length got some light on the subject. "Somebody cut the cords," he said. "Look here--and here!" and he pointed out fragments of the strong cord with which the captive had been bound. "That's so. Do you think he did it himself?" asked Philip, disappointed. "No; he was too securely tied. I took care of that. Somebody came along and released him." "I hope he had to stay all night, at any rate," said Philip. "That we cannot discover at present. One thing is certain--he's free." "I'm sorry I came," muttered Philip. "I have had this long walk for nothing." "You haven't had the satisfaction of releasing him, I suppose, you mean?" "No, I don't. I wanted to see how he looked. It's too bad he got away." "There's nothing for it but to go back," said Congreve. "You'd better look out for him. He may want to pay you off." "He'd better not try it," said Philip, but he seemed uneasy at the thought. On their way back they passed, unconsciously, near the place where the tin box was concealed. Hovering near the spot was Ralph Temple, uneasy for the safety of the buried treasure. He eyed the two young fellows with suspicion. They had no guns in their hands, and he could not understand what object they had in coming to this out-of-the-way place so early in the morning. "What are you about here?" he demanded, roughly. Philip was frightened and turned pale; but James Congreve only surveyed the man curiously, and said: "Is that any business of yours, my friend?" "You'll find out whether it's any business of mine," returned Temple, angrily. "That's precisely what I would like to find out," said Congreve, coolly. "You accost us as if you were the owner of the wood, which, I take it, you are not." "Do you want me to wring your neck, young man?" said Temple, with a growl. "Oh, don't make him angry, James!" begged Philip, nervously, laying his hand on Congreve's arm. James--who certainly was not a coward--surveyed his companion contemptuously. "Much obliged to you for your kind offer," said he, addressing Temple, "but I must decline it." "You've got too long a tongue, young man!" said Temple, provoked by the other's coolness. "I've a mind to teach you a lesson." "When I want one I will let you know," said Congreve, changing his tone and manner and regarding the other scornfully. "Meanwhile, my man, I advise you not to drink so early in the morning. It doesn't improve your naturally bad manners." With a muttered exclamation Ralph Temple sprang forward, prepared to handle Congreve roughly, as he was quite able to do, being much his superior in size and strength, but, with his hand nearly touching the shoulder of the young man, recoiled, as Congreve drew out a revolver and pointed it at him. "One step further and I fire!" he said, in a calm, collected tone, while Philip stood by, as pale as a sheet. "Confusion!" exclaimed the ruffian, in mingled amazement and dismay. "Who are you, anyway?" "My name is James Congreve, at your service," said the owner of that name, bowing. "I regret that I haven't a card about me." "You're a cool customer!" muttered Temple, surveying Congreve curiously. "So people tell me. You'll find me at the hotel in the village, if you have any further business with me." Congreve nodded carelessly and left the spot--Phil, in a very nervous condition, keeping himself somewhat in advance. "He's a cool chap," muttered the ruffian. "But it's clear he knows nothing of our affair. I was a fool to make a fuss. It might lead to suspicion." "What a dreadful man!" said Philip, as the two were walking away. "Do you know him?" "His name is Ralph Temple. He's a kind of tramp." "He's an impertinent fellow, at any rate. It's well I had my revolver with me." They walked back to the village, momentarily expecting to see or hear something of Harry Gilbert; but neither then nor later in the day was their curiosity gratified. _ |
||