“So much the better!” said Frank, in a tone of satisfaction. “The only one I want to see is Philip, and he isn’t likely to go to sleep very early.”
Mr. Dunbar smiled to himself.
“Frank has got some plan in his head,” he thought. “I won’t inquire what it is, for he has good common sense, and won’t do anything improper.”
About eight o’clock, Frank, after certain preparations, which will hereafter be referred to, set out for the poorhouse, which was about a mile distant.
CHAPTER XIV.
PHILIP MAKES HIS ESCAPE.
It grew darker and darker in Philip’s chamber, but no one came to bring him a light. It was assumed that he would go to bed before he required one.
By seven o’clock the paupers had settled themselves for the night, and when eight o’clock struck, Mr. and Mrs. Tucker sought their beds. It was no particular trial for Joe Tucker to go to bed early, for he was naturally a lazy man, and fond of rest; while his wife, who worked a great deal harder than he, after being on her feet from four o’clock in the morning, found it a welcome relief to lie down and court friendly sleep. Zeke wasn’t always ready to go to bed. In fact, he would much rather have gone up to the village now and then, but if he had done so he would have had to stay out all night. There was one thing his parents were strict about, and that was retiring at eight o’clock.
Philip, however, did not retire at that hour. It was earlier than his usual hour for bed. Besides, he was in hopes his friend Frank would make his appearance, and help him, though he didn’t exactly understand how, to make his escape.
At half-past eight it was dark. The stars were out, and the moon was just making its appearance. Philip had opened his window softly, and was looking out, when all at once he saw a boyish figure approaching.
Could it be Frank Dunbar?