"His room is better than his company," said Harry.
"I agree with you. According to my idea, we may as well leave him where he lies."
"But won't he starve?"
"He can get his hands free after awhile," said Obed, "but not till after we are at a safe distance. You needn't be afraid about him. Anyhow the world wouldn't lose much if he did take passage for another."
"That's so, Obed, but I wouldn't like to feel that we were responsible for his death."
At this moment the prostrate man opened his eyes, and as his glance lighted on Obed, they gleamed with the old look of rage. He tried to get up, and of course discovered that his hands were tied.
"Loosen my hands, you scoundrel!" he exclaimed.
"If you mean me by that pet name, my esteemed friend," said Obed, "I respectfully decline. I'd rather look at you with your hands tied."
"Do you want me to kill you?" demanded the tramp furiously.
"Not at present! when I do I'll let you know. Come, boys, we may as well be going. This gentleman would rather be left alone."