After supper, Phil laid down on the cane-seated lounge in the hall to await for Chap. He did not expect him early, for the moon did not rise until after eight o’clock, and it was of no use going out at night after muskrats until that luminary had lighted up the river-bank. He was just dropping off into a little doze, when Jenny, coming from the kitchen, ran to the lounge.
“I haven’t a minute to stop,” she whispered, “for Susan sent me up-stairs to light the lamp in our room, and she is coming right after me. I’ve found out something. I can’t say anything about it now, but to-morrow I’ll tell you what it is, Master Phil.”
And away she ran.
Phil did not feel in the humor for guessing conundrums. He had had enough of that sort of thing for one day, and he stretched himself out again for another doze.
This time he dropped into a sleep, which lasted fifteen or twenty minutes, from which he was aroused by footsteps on the porch.
“Come in,” cried Phil, jumping up.
A person entered, but he was not Chapman Webster.
CHAPTER IV.
IN WHICH CHAP SHOOTS A LITTLE AND PLANS A GREAT DEAL.
The person who entered the front door of Hyson Hall when Philip cried “Come in!” was a small, smooth-shaven man, wearing a high-crowned, black straw hat. There was a hanging-lamp burning in the hall, and as Phil sprang up to receive his visitor he could see his features distinctly, but he did not recognize him. He had never seen the man before.