mile before he could cross, joined him.

"Where is the other fellow?" he asked.

"Couldn't catch him. This one fought like a young tiger, and I
couldn't leave him," replied Nathan. "If you will take Harry up to the
village I will soon have him."

The other assented, and while Nathan went in search of Ben, Harry was
conducted back to the village.

The prisoner was sad and depressed in spirits; but he did not lose all
hope. He was appalled at the idea of being accused of burning the
barn; but he was innocent, and had a vague assurance that no harm
could befall him on that account.

When they entered the village, a crowd gathered around them, eager to
learn the particulars of the capture; but without pausing to gratify
this curiosity, Harry's conductor led him to the poorhouse, and placed
him in charge of Mr. Nason.

CHAPTER VI

IN WHICH HARRY CONCLUDES THAT A DEFEAT IS SOMETIMES BETTER THAN A
VICTORY

The keeper of the poorhouse received Harry in sullen silence, and
conducted him to the chamber in which he had been ordered to keep him
a close prisoner. He apparently had lost all confidence in him, and
regretted that he had connived at his escape.

Harry did not like the cold and repulsive deportment of his late
friend. Mr. Nason had always been kind to him; now he seemed to have
fallen in with Squire Walker's plans, and was willing to be the
instrument of the overseer's narrow and cruel policy. Before, he had
taken his part against the mighty, so far as it was prudent for him to
do so; now, he was willing to go over to the enemy.

The reverse made him sadder than any other circumstance of his
return--sadder than the fear of punishment, or even of being sent to
live with Jacob Wire.

"I've got back again," said Harry, when they reached the chamber in
which he was to be confined.

"I see you have," replied Mr. Nason, in freezing tones.

The keeper had never spoken to him in such tones, and Harry burst into
tears. His only friend had deserted him, and he felt more desolate
than ever before in his life.

"You needn't cry, now," said Mr. Nason, sternly.

"I can't help it," sobbed the little prisoner.

"Can't you?"

Mr. Nason sneered as he spoke, and his sneer pierced the heart of
Harry.

"O, Mr. Nason!"

"There--that will do. You needn't blubber any more. You have made your
bed, and now you can lie in it;" and the keeper turned on his heel to
leave the room.

"Don't leave me yet," pleaded H