"That's all very well to say. What were you doing in the wood just
now?"

"I only went there for a walk."

"Of course," said Temple, with a sneer. "It's a pleasant place for a
walk, and handy to your house."

"I hope to die if I ain't telling the truth!" said Philip, desperately.

"You'll die when your time comes, and it may come sooner than you think
for," said Temple, taking a malicious pleasure in seeing Philip turn
pale and tremble in his grasp.

"You wouldn't kill me?" faltered Philip.

"I don't know what I shall do. If you tell me where the box is, I
shan't."

"But I don't know--hope to die if I do."

"Who was that fellow with you?" demanded Temple, abruptly.

"James Congreve."

"Where does he come from?"

"From New York."

"If you haven't stolen the box, he has. It lies between you."

"James wouldn't steal it. He is a gentleman."

"So gentlemen don't steal?" sneered Temple. "I am not sure about that. I
know one thing. I've lost the box, and one of you has got it."

It occurred to Temple that it was more likely to be Congreve, who was
older and bolder than the boy he had captured, but he was not disposed
to let Philip go, nevertheless.

Again Philip denied the charge, but this time Temple did not answer.

At length they reached the hut, and entered.

Now came the critical moment. What was this bad man going to do with
him? Philip asked himself.

He was dragged into the hut, and then, for the first time, his captor
relaxed his grip.

"Sit down there," he said, pointing to a wooden chair, from which the
paint had all worn off.

Philip sat down.

"Now, if you dare to stir or try to escape I'll kill you," said Temple,
coolly.

"What a blood-thirsty ruffian!" Philip thought, trembling.

Temple opened the door of a closet, which was filled with a variety of
articles, including a small supply of kitchen utensils.

He took out a case-knife, to the horror of poor Philip, who concluded he
was to be butchered in cold blood. Still, he did not dare to leave his
seat, lest his jailer's threat should be carried into execution. He was
happily undeceived, however, for from the floor of the closet Temple
lifted a portion of a clothesline, and with some difficulty, for the
knife was dull, cut off a portion. Then he turned to Philip.

"I can't stay here to stand guard over you, boy," he said, "but I don't
mean that you shall get away in a hurry. I think I have found a way to
prevent your escapin