PHIL'S FRIENDS AND HIS ENEMIES.
Meanwhile, Phil's long absence had excited anxiety and alarm.
“What can have become of Philip?” said Mr. Carter when supper time came
and he did not arrive.
“I can't think,” answered Mrs. Forbush. “He is generally very prompt.”
“That is what makes me feel anxious. I am afraid something must have
happened to him.”
“Did you send him anywhere, Uncle Oliver?”
“Yes; he called, as usual, to get my check from Mr. Pitkin.”
“And he ought to have been here earlier?”
“Certainly. He wouldn't have to wait for that.”
“Philip is very careful. I can't think that he has met with an
accident.”
“Even the most prudent and careful get into trouble sometimes.”
They were finally obliged to sit down to supper alone. None of the three
enjoyed it. Not only Mr. Carter and Mrs. Forbush, but Julia was anxious
and troubled.
“I didn't know I cared so much for the boy,” said Uncle Oliver. “He has
endeared himself to me. I care nothing for the loss of the money if he
will only return safe.”
It was about a quarter of eight when the door-bell rang, and the servant
ushered in Mr. and Mrs. Pitkin and Alonzo.
After the usual greetings were interchanged, Mrs. Pitkin said, looking
about her:
“Where is Philip?”
“We are very much concerned about him,” said Mr. Carter, his face
showing his trouble. “He has not been home since morning. Did he call at
your store, Pitkin?”
“Hasn't he been home since?” asked Pitkin, in a tone unpleasantly
significant.
“No. At what time did he leave the store?”
“Hours since. I--I am not sure but I may be able to throw some light on
his failure to return.”
“Do so, if you can!” said Uncle Oliver.
“In place of giving him a check, I gave the boy two hundred dollars in
bills.”
“Well?”
“Don't you see? The temptation has proved too strong for him. I think,
Uncle Oliver, you won't see him back in a hurry.”
“Do you mean to say the boy would steal?” demanded the old gentleman
indignantly.
“I think it more than likely that he has appropriated the money.”
“I am sure he has not,” said Mrs. Forbush.
“And so am I,” chimed in Julia.
Mr. Pitkin shrugged his shoulders.
“So you think,” he answered; “but I don't agree with you.”
“Nor I!” said Mrs. Pitkin, nodding her head vigorously. “I never had any
confidence in the boy. I don't mind telling you now that I have warned
Alonzo not to get too intimate with him. You remember it, Lonny?”
“Yes'm,” responded Lonny.
“Then you think the boy capable of appropriating the money?” asked Mr.
Carter quietly.
“Yes, I do.”
“Well, I don't!” said Uncle Oliver emphatically.
“You are very easily deceived,” said Mrs. Pitkin.
“Don't be too sure of that,” returned Mr. Carter, with a significant
glance, that made his niece feel uncomfortable.
“I suspect you will have to admit it,” said Mr. Pitkin. “If, contrary to
my anticipation, the boy returns, and brings the money with him, I will
own myself mistaken.”
Just then the front door was heard to open; there was a sound of steps
in the hall, and Phil came hurriedly into the room.
Mr. and Mrs. Pitkin exchanged looks of surprise and dismay; but Mrs.
Forbush, her daughter and Uncle Oliver looked delighted.