PHIL IS ROBBED.
When he was fairly in the room Phil looked about him expecting to
see Mr. Carter, but the room appeared unoccupied. He turned to his
companion, a look of surprise on his face, but he was destined to be
still more surprised, and that not in a pleasant way. His guide had
locked the door from the inside and put the key in his pocket.
“What does that mean?” asked Phil, with sudden apprehension.
“What do you refer to?” asked his guide with an unpleasant smile.
“Why do you lock the door?”
“I thought it might be safest,” was the significant answer.
“I don't believe Mr. Carter is in the house at all,” said Phil quickly.
“I don't believe he is either, youngster.”
“Why did you tell me he was here?” demanded Phil, with rising
indignation.
“I thought you wouldn't come if I didn't,” replied his companion
nonchalantly.
“Answer me one thing, is Mr. Carter sick at all?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Then I am trapped!”
“Precisely. You may as well know the truth now.”
Phil had already conjectured the reason why he had been enticed to this
poor dwelling. The two hundred dollars which he had in his pocket made
him feel very uncomfortable. I think I may say truly that if the money
had been his own he would have been less disturbed. But he thought, with
a sinking heart, that if the money should be taken from him, he would
himself fall under suspicion, and he could not bear to have Mr. Carter
think that he had repaid his kindness with such black ingratitude. He
might be mistaken. The man before him might not know he had such a sum
of money in his possession, and of course he was not going to give him
the information.
“I am glad Mr. Carter is all right,” said Phil. “Now tell me why you
have taken such pains to get me here?”
“Why, as to that,” said his companion, “there were at least two hundred
good reasons.”
Phil turned pale, for he understood now that in some way his secret was
known.
“What do you mean?” he asked, not wholly able to conceal his perturbed
feelings.
“You know well enough, boy,” said the other significantly. “You've got
two hundred dollars in your pocket. I want it.”
“Are you a thief, then?” said Phil, with perhaps imprudent boldness.
“Just take care what you say. I won't be insulted by such a
whipper-snapper as you. You'd better not call names. Hand over that
money!”
“How do you know I have any money?” Phil asked, trying to gain a little
time for deliberation.
“No matter. Hand it over, I say!”
“Don't take it!” said Phil, agitated. “It isn't mine!”
“Then you needn't mind giving it up.”
“It belongs to Mr. Carter.”
“He has plenty more.”
“But he will think I took it. He will think I am dishonest.”
“That is nothing to me.”
“Let me go,” pleaded Phil, “and I will never breathe a word about your
wanting to rob me. You know you might get into trouble for it.”
“That's all bosh! The money, I say!” said the man sternly.
“I won't give it to you!” said Phil boldly.
“You won't, hey? Then I shall have to take it. If I hurt you, you will
have yourself to blame.”
So saying the man seized Phil, and then a struggle ensued, the boy
defending himself as well as he could. He made a stouter resistance than
the thief anticipated, and the latter became irritated with the amount
of trouble he had to take it. I should be glad to report that Phil
made a successful defense, but this was hardly to be expected. He was a
strong boy, but he had to cope with a strong man, and though right was
on his side, virtue in his case had to succumb to triumphant vice.
Phil was thrown down, and when prostrate, with the man's knee on his
breast, the latter succeeded in stripping him of the money he had so
bravely defended.
“There, you young rascal!” he said, as he rose to his feet; “you see how
much good you have done. You might as well have given up the money in
the first place.”
“It was my duty to keep it from you, if I could,” said Phil, panting
with his exertions.
“Well, if that's any satisfaction to you, you're welcome to it.”
He went to the door and unlocked it.
“May I go now?” asked Phil.
“Not much. Stay where you are!”
A moment later and Phil found himself alone and a prisoner.