“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 title.
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: