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 attic¹ stairs and demanded suspiciously:

“What you doin' there, Zeke?”

“Tryin' to cheer up Phil Gray,” answered Zeke jocosely².

“He don't need any cheerin' up. He's all right. I reckon you're up to some mischief³.”

“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 relish⁴ 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

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