"What business have you to touch me? I can have you arrested, you low
pauper!"

"What's that? What did you call me?" demanded Philip.

"I called you a pauper."

"By what right?"

"Squire Pope told my father he was going to bring you over to the
poorhouse to live. You just see if my father doesn't give it to you
then!"

"Thank you," said Phil contemptuously; "but I don't propose to board at
your establishment, not even to obtain the pleasure of your society."

"Maybe you can't help yourself," said Zeke gleefully.

For he saw what had escaped the notice of Philip, whose back was
turned--namely, a four-seated carryall, containing his father and Squire
Pope, which had just halted in the road, hard by.

"Mr. Tucker," said Squire Pope, in a low tone, "now will be the best
opportunity to capture the boy and carry him to the almshouse."

"All right--I'm ready," said Tucker readily.

For another boarder would bring him sixty cents a week more.

They stopped the horses and prepared for business.

CHAPTER XIII. IN THE ENEMY'S HANDS

Philip heard a step, and turned to see whose it was; but, when he
recognized Mr. Tucker, the latter's hand was already on his collar.

"What have you been doin' to Zeke? Tell me that, you young rascal," said
Mr. Tucker roughly.

"He pitched into me savage, father," answered Zeke, who had picked
himself up, and was now engaged in brushing the dust from his coat.

"Pitched into ye, did he?" repeated Joe Tucker grimly. "I reckon
he didn't know your father was 'round. What have you got to say for
yourself, eh?"

Philip regarded his captor contemptuously, and didn't struggle to
escape, knowing that he was not a match for a man five inches taller
than himself. But contempt he could not help showing, for he knew very
well that Zeke had inherited his mean traits largely from his father.

"I'll thank you to remove your hand from my collar, sir," said Philip.
"When you have done that, I will explain why I pitched into Zeke, as he
calls it."

"Don't you let go, father!" said Zeke hastily. "He'll run away, if you
do."

"If I do, you can catch me between you," returned Philip coolly.

"I reckon that's so," said Mr. Tucker, withdrawing his hand, but keeping
wary watch of our hero.

"Now go ahead!" said he.

Philip did so.

"I saw Zeke torturing a small dog," he explained, "and I couldn't stand
by and let it go on."

"What was he doin' to him?" inquired Mr. Tucker.

"Put