“Thank you,” said Phil contemptuously; “but I don’t propose to board at your establishment, not even to obtain the pleasure of your society.”
“Maybe you can’t help yourself,” said Zeke gleefully.
For he saw what had escaped the notice of Philip, whose back was turned—namely, a four-seated carryall, containing his father and Squire Pope, which had just halted in the road, hard by.
“Mr. Tucker,” said Squire Pope, in a low tone, “now will be the best opportunity to capture the boy and carry him to the almshouse.”
“All right—I’m ready,” said Tucker readily.
For another boarder would bring him sixty cents a week more.
They stopped the horses and prepared for business.
CHAPTER VIII.
IN THE ENEMY’S HANDS
Philip heard a step, and turned to see whose it was; but, when he recognized Mr. Tucker, the latter’s hand was already on his collar.
“What have you been doin’ to Zeke? Tell me that, you young rascal,” said Mr. Tucker roughly.