aptivity.

CHAPTER XXV

PHILIP BECOMES A PRISONER

"Please let me go, and I'll give you five dollars," said poor Philip, as
he was dragged along the forest path by his captor.

"Humph!" said Temple, grimly, thinking he might as well take the money,
though he had no intention of releasing Philip. "Have you got five
dollars with you?"

"No."

"Then you are trying to fool me," exclaimed Temple, with an angry jerk
at the boy's collar.

"No, I'm not," answered Philip, terrified. "I've got two dollars with
me, and I'll bring you the rest before night.

"Where will you get it?"

"From my father."

"And I suppose you expect me to let you go home and get it?"

"If you please."

"But I don't please. You must think I'm a fool. Just as if you would
come back if you had once got away!"

"But I will. I promise it on my word of honor."

"Your word of honor," repeated Temple, scornfully. "As if I didn't know
what that amounts to."

Philip would have resented this imputation if he had dared, but there
was a look of grim resolution about Temple's mouth which made him afraid
to show any resentment.

"Besides," added Temple, "what do you think I care for five dollars?
After you have stolen thousands of dollars from me, you dare to think I
will let you off for five dollars."

There was something in this speech which, despite Philip's terror,
attracted his attention. Temple spoke of being robbed of thousands of
dollars, yet he was generally considered a poor outlaw. How could he
have come into possession of so large a sum?

"Thousands of dollars!" repeated Philip, in undisguised amazement.

"Yes; what have you got to say about it?" demanded Temple, sharply.

"I thought you were poor," Philip couldn't help saying.

Temple paused a moment. He knew that the possession of so much money
would excite surprise in others besides Philip, and he regretted his
imprudence in speaking of thousands of dollars. As it was done, he must
give some kind of an explanation.

"So I was poor; but a rich cousin in New York died lately, and left me a
large legacy. Not having any safe to put it in," he added, with a grim
smile, "I concealed it in the wood, thinking it would be safe. When I
saw you and that friend of yours prowling around this morning, it
crossed my mind that it was in danger; but I didn't think you were
thieves."

"We are not," said Philip. "We know nothing about your tin box."