g."

He approached the boy, and said:

"Hold out your hands."

"What are you going to do to me, Mr. Temple?" asked Philip, nervously.

"Tie you," answered his captor, sententiously. "What do you suppose
ropes are made for?"

"Please don't tie me," said Philip, in dismay. "I won't run away."

"No, I don't think you will. Hold out your hands."

There was no help for it. Philip, much against his will, held out his
hands, and they were tied tightly around the wrists, so that the
stricture was painful.

"It hurts me," he complained.

"It would hurt your neck worse," replied Temple.

Philip understood what he meant, and turned pale. But a ray of hope came
to him in his despondency. Even if his hands were tied he might escape,
and he resolved to do so as soon as Temple was at a safe distance.

His hands being tied would not prevent his walking or running, and once
out of the wood he would feel comparatively safe.

He reckoned without his host, however; or, rather, he reckoned without
knowing the intentions of his captor.

"There," said Temple, when the boy's hands were tied, "so far so good!
Now for your feet!"

Hope died once more in Philip's breast. He might escape with his hands
tied, but with his feet tied it was quite another matter. In vain he
protested against this second indignity. His jailor was not to be
moved.

"You may as well spare your breath, boy," he said. "I ain't quite a
fool. I'm not going to leave you free to get away as soon as my back is
turned."

So Philip's feet were tied, too, and he realized how utterly helpless he
was.

"There, you can amuse yourself now as much as you like," said Temple,
with a humor that Philip did not by any means appreciate. "You'll have a
nice, easy time, with nothing to do."

He turned and left the hut, relieving Philip of his presence, which was
one comfort, but did not go very far.

As my readers will conclude, Philip began to work his wrists up and
down, vainly endeavoring to unloose the rope, but only succeeded in
hurting himself. Next he tried his feet, but they, also, were securely
confined.

It was a righteous retribution for the trick he had played on Harry
Gilbert. He was being paid off in his own coin. Though his conscience
was not particularly sensitive, it did occur to him that he was in
precisely the same condition as the boy whom he and Congreve had left
alone in the dark wood, fully expecting that he would have to remain all
night.