There was an early train from the neighboring village of Crampton to New York. Harry got up early, and walked the first part of the way through the fields to a point where the footpath struck the main road, three-quarters of a mile from the village.

In this way it happened that he was not seen by any of his companions, and his day's expedition was kept a secret.

Just after breakfast James Congreve received a call at the hotel from Philip.

"Our friend in the wood must be hungry by this time," said James.

"Ho, ho!" laughed Philip, in evident enjoyment. "It's a splendid joke."

"I fancy he doesn't think so," said Congreve, shrugging his shoulders.

"Of course he doesn't. He must have been fully scared, staying there all night."

"He doesn't strike me as a boy who would easily be frightened,"

"At any rate, he must be hungry," said Philip, in a tone of satisfaction. "I guess he'll find it doesn't pay to insult me."

"Well, he's had enough of it; we'll go and release him."

"What for?"

"You don't want him to stay there all day, do you?" demanded Congreve.

"It wouldn't do him any harm," muttered Philip.

"What a mean fellow you are, Philip! You ought to be satisfied with keeping him there all night."

"I wish you wouldn't call me names," said Philip, pettishly.

"Don't deserve them, then. Well, are you coming with me?'

"I don't know; it's a good ways," said Philip, hesitating.

"Just as you like. I am going. I told the boy I would, and I mean to keep my promise."

And James Congreve stepped off the piazza and started.

"Oh, well, I'll go, too. I want to see how he looks," said Philip, and began to laugh.

"Take care how you laugh at him there, Phil, or he may pitch into you."

"You won't let him, will you, James?" said Philip, apprehensively.

"I thought you were a match for him," said Congreve, with an amused smile.

"So I am, but he might take me unawares. He'll be so mad, you know."

"I'll protect you," said Congreve. "Come along."

Both boys would have liked to learn whether Harry had been missed at home, and what was thought of his disappearance; but there seemed to be no one to ask, and, for obvious reasons, they did not care to show any curiosity on the subject.

"I'd like to meet Mr. Wilkins," said Philip. "He boards there, you know, and he might say something about it."

"Mr. Wilkins is your uncle, isn't he?"

"He's a distant relation of ma's," said Philip, reluctantly. "We don't know much about him."

"I suppose he's poor?" suggested Congreve, drily.

"Oh, dear, yes! He was a farmer or something out in Illinois. He probably pays a dollar or two a week board at Gilberts'. They're dreadfully poor, you know. I shouldn't be surprised if all hands were in the poorhouse before the year is out."

"Your uncle and all?"

"He isn't my uncle!" said Philip, snappishly.

"Relative, then. You wouldn't want a relative in the poorhouse?"

"Pa offered to pay his expenses back to Illinois, but the old fellow was obstinate and wouldn't go. I expect he's hanging round here in hopes of getting something out of pa and ma; but it's no use, as he'll find out sooner or later."

"Strange he went to board with the Gilberts, isn't it?"

"Oh, it's a good enough place for a rusty old chap like him. He ain't used to living in any style. Ma says he's half crazy."

By this time they had reached the borders of the wood, and soon they came to the place where Harry had been left bound.

"Why, he isn't here!" exclaimed Philip, in surprise and disappointment.

"So it appears."

"How could he have got away?"

James Congreve, bending over, searched carefully, and at length got some light on the subject.

"Somebody cut the cords," he said. "Look here--and here!" and he pointed out ............