A TERRIBLE SITUATION.
Phil tried the door, but now it was locked on the outside, and he found
that he was securely trapped. He went to the window, but here, too,
there was no chance of escape. Even if he had been able to get safely
out, he would have landed in a back-yard from which there was no egress
except through the house, which was occupied by his enemies.
“What shall I do?” Phil asked himself, despairingly. “Mr. Carter will
be anxious about me, and perhaps he may think I have gone off with the
money!”
This to Phil was the worst of his troubles. He prized a good reputation
and the possession of an honorable name, and to be thought a thief would
distress him exceedingly.
“What a fool I was to walk into such a trap!” he said to himself. “I
might have known Mr. Carter would not be in such a neighborhood.”
Phil was too severe upon himself. I suspect that most of my boy readers,
even those who account themselves sharp, might have been deceived as
easily. The fact is, rogues are usually plausible, and they are so
trained in deception that it is no reflection upon their victims that
they allow themselves to be taken in.
Hours passed, and still Phil found himself a prisoner. Each moment he
became more anxious and troubled.
“How long will they keep me?” he asked himself. “They can't keep me here
forever.”
About six o'clock the door was opened slightly, and a plate of bread and
butter was thrust in, together with a glass of cold water. Who brought
it up Phil did not know, for the person did not show himself or herself.
Phil ate and drank what was provided, not that he was particularly
hungry, but he felt that he must keep up his strength.
“They don't mean to starve me, at any rate,” he reflected. “That is some
consolation. While there is life, there is hope.”
A little over an hour passed. It became dark in Phil's prison, but he
had no means of lighting the gas. There was a small bed in the room, and
he made up his mind that he must sleep there.
All at once there was a confused noise and disturbance. He could
not make out what it meant, till above all other sounds he heard the
terrible cry of “Fire!”
“Fire! Where is it?” thought Phil.
It was not long before he made a terrible discovery. It was the very
house in which he was confined! There was a trampling of feet and a
chorus of screams. The smoke penetrated into the room.
“Heavens! Am I to be burned alive!” thought our poor hero.
He jumped up and down on the floor, pounded frantically on the door, and
at last the door was broken open by a stalwart fireman, and Phil made
his way out, half-suffocated.
Once in the street, he made his way as fast as possible homeward.