"Please show me the room."

Though a boy, Mark spoke with unconscious authority, and Mr. Sprague immediately complied with his request.

He led the way up into the attic, and Mark looked into the room. He was struck at once with its bare, unfurnished aspect.

"Did the boy spend the night here?" he asked abruptly.

"Yes."

"Where did he sleep?"

Mr. Sprague saw his mistake too late.

"Why--the fact is," he said hesitating, "the boy acted badly, and I confined him here as a punishment."

"Expecting him to sleep on the floor?"

"Well, yes--as a punishment."

"How old is the boy?"

"Ten years old."

"Then all I can say is, that you treated him very cruelly."

"That ain't the way to talk to me," bl.u.s.tered Sprague. "I guess I know the way to treat boys. You're only a boy yourself."

"That is true, but what has that got to do with it?"

"You should be more respectful to your elders."

"Suppose we get back to business, Mr. Sprague. Has Philip ever run away before?"

"No, and it's very ungrateful for him to do it now. Why, I have supported him ever since his father's death, and I paid the expenses of his father's funeral."

"I shall probably repay you for that--when you find, and deliver to me the boy."

This was welcome intelligence to Mr. Sprague, who straightway became very polite to Mark.

"Thank you, my dear young friend. I wouldn't accept it if I was not a poor man. I am very much attached to the boy, and I wouldn't let him go if I could afford to keep him. Oscar, go to the village at once and see if you can see anything of Philip."

"I will go with him, Mr. Sprague."

"Very well; but be sure to come back before you take him away."

"I certainly shall. It would not be fair to you to do otherwise. You may get ready the items of expense while I am gone."

"Thank you, I will."

"How provoking that Philip should go away just at this time!" thought Nahum. "It seems so mysterious, too. I do hope nothing has happened to the boy, or this fellow, who seems very sharp, may not be willing to pay me my bill."

Meanwhile Oscar and Mark went to the village.

"Do you live in New York?" asked Oscar.

"Yes."

"Are you Mr. Gilbert's son?"

"No; I am only his messenger."

"And you actually came all the way from New York alone?"

"Yes."

"Did he give you plenty of money for traveling?"

"Well, a pretty good sum," answered Mark, smiling. "What do you think has become of Philip?"

"Blest if I know. I don't see how he could get out of the window."

"I hope he hasn't come to any harm."

"Oh, I guess not," said Oscar indifferently.

"Do you like the boy?" asked Mark keenly.

"Well, I don't care much about kids," answered Oscar.

"Have you any idea where Philip would be likely to go? Has he ever left home before?"

"No; and he wouldn't now if he wasn't crazy."

At this moment they met Albert Frost.

"Do you know that boy?" asked Mark. "Perhaps he has seen Philip."

"I say, Albert," said Oscar, "have you seen anything of Philip Lillis?"

"Why do you ask? Don't he live at your house?"

"Yes, but he's taken French leave."

Something in Albert's face led Mark to suspect that he knew more of Philip than he cared to tell, also that he was a friend of the young boy.

"I have come from New York to take Philip with me," he said significantly. "A friend of his father is going to adopt him."

"Is this sure?" asked Albert.