o stay upstairs all day?"

"Comin', Abigail!" answered Mr. Tucker hastily, as he backed out of the
room, locking the door behind him. Philip heard the click of the key as
it turned in the lock, and he realized, for the first time in his life,
that he was a prisoner.

CHAPTER XII. A PAUPER'S MEAL

Half an hour later Philip heard a pounding on the door of his room.

He was unable to open it, but he called out, loud enough for the
outsider to hear:

"Who is it?"

"It's me--Zeke," was the answer that came back.

"Did you tell the Dunbars where I was?" asked Philip eagerly.

"Yes."

"I shouldn't think you had time to go there and back," said Philip,
fearing that Zeke had pocketed his money and then played him false. But,
as we know, he was mistaken in this.

"I didn't go there," shouted Zeke. "I met Frank on the bridge."

"What did he say?"

"He was mad," answered Zeke, laughing. "I thought he would be."

"Did he send any message to me?" asked Philip.

"No; he stopped fishin' and went home." Here the conversation was
interrupted. The loud tones in which Zeke had been speaking, in order to
be heard through the door, had attracted attention below.

His father came to the foot of the attic stairs and demanded
suspiciously:

"What you doin' there, Zeke?"

"Tryin' to cheer up Phil Gray," answered Zeke jocosely.

"He don't need any cheerin' up. He's all right. I reckon you're up to
some mischief."

"No, I ain't."

"Come along down."

"All right, dad, if you say so. Lucky he didn't hear what I was sayin'
about seein' Frank Dunbar," thought Zeke. "He'd be mad."

Presently there was another caller at Philip's room, or, rather, prison.
This time it was Mr. Tucker himself. He turned the key in the lock and
opened the door. Philip looked up inquiringly.

"Supper's ready," announced Joe. "You can come down if you want to."

Philip was provided with an appetite, but he did not relish the idea of
going downstairs and joining the rest of Mr. Tucker's boarders. It would
seem like a tacit admission that he was one of their number. Of course,
he couldn't do without eating, but he had a large apple in his pocket
when captured, and he thought that this would prevent his suffering from
hunger for that night, at least, and he did not mean to spend another at
the Norton poorhouse. The problem of to-morrow's supply of food might be
deferred till then.

"I don't care for any supper," answered Philip.

"Perha