answered
Congreve, carelessly.

"It must be as much as ten dollars," said Philip, rather uneasily.
"Somehow, you always have more luck at the cards than I do."

"Luck will change in time. Besides, I am in no hurry for the money."

"I only wish an allowance of two dollars a week. Father will only give
me half of it, and mother makes up the rest. So it would take five weeks
to pay you, and leave me without a cent to spend."

"Probably you won't have to pay it at all. You may win it all back
to-day."

Thus encouraged, Philip began to play, but was as unlucky as usual. He
rose from the table owing Congreve five dollars more than when he sat
down. "Just my luck!" ejaculated Philip, with a long face. "Just look up
the account and let me know what it all amounts to."

Congreve made a little calculation, and announced, in apparent surprise,
that Philip owed him twenty-two dollars.

"It can't be!" ejaculated Philip, in dismay.

"There's no doubt about it," said Congreve. "However, don't trouble
yourself about it. I can wait. And now for your affair with this Gilbert
boy. I've got an idea that I may prove serviceable to you."

During the next fifteen minutes a wicked plot was devised, of which it
was intended that Harry should be the victim. The particulars must be
reserved for the next chapter.

CHAPTER XII

AN UNEXPECTED INVITATION

"Come here, will you!"

Harry Gilbert turned around, for the call was evidently addressed to
him, and saw, standing on the piazza of the hotel, James Congreve.

"Come here a moment. I want to speak to you," said Congreve, taking from
his mouth the cigar he was smoking.

Harry was surprised. He had scarcely any acquaintance with Congreve,
whom he knew chiefly as a companion of Philip Ross. Hitherto he had
taken no notice of Harry--a circumstance not regretted by our hero, who
had not formed a favorable opinion of the young man.

"Do you wish to speak to me?" he asked, politely.

"Yes," said James, blandly. "May I offer you a cigar?"

"Thank you, I don't smoke," returned Harry, with increased surprise at
Congreve's friendly tone.

"It's a bad habit; I dare say you are right," said Congreve gladly. "I
mean to break off soon. But what I wanted to ask you was: Do you know
your way about the Pegan Hill Woods?"

"Yes; I've been there often."

"Then you are just the companion I want. I am thinking of exploring them
with my gun. I suppose I am likely to find some birds?"

"