"No, you don't!" said the man, tightening his grasp. "You come right along with me." The fellow was powerfully built. He fairly dragged Phil over the ground. He was making across a vacant space for a hollow in which stood a dark rambling building, one-story high, and apparently untenanted. Phil made a desperate struggle, and set up a shout. His captor placed his free hand over the boy's lips to silence a further outcry. "Ouch!" he ejaculated, as Phil sank his teeth deep across his fingers. The man was viciously irritated. He dealt Phil a fearful blow across the side of the head with his clenched knuckles. Phil swayed, and partly lost consciousness. He believed that the man lifted him up and carried him. At least, in a half-dazed state he felt that he was helpless, and when he opened his eyes clearly he was lying on a heap of straw in some kind of a cellar. A lantern burned on a barrel. The man who had captured him was talking to another man, roughly-dressed and fierce-looking. Phil listened. "So, I brought him here," said the speaker. "He's got a message for Warren. It may be important." "I'll soon know," the other man. "Did you get the papers yet?" "I was waiting for them when this fellow came along." "Get right back and get those papers!" directed the other. "They are what we came to Lowell for, and we mustn't miss them. I'll attend to this fellow." Phil sprang up the minute his original captor left the place. Inside his hat was a letter to Dr. Warren from Mr. Sabine. He did not know its contents, yet at all hazards, he was bound to protect its secrecy. He seized a stool resting on the floor and held it in front of him as a shield. Thus armed, he made a rush for the door. The man laughed, and so nimbly interposed his bulky form that Phil could not get past him. In fact, spreading out his arms, he began to drive Phil back towards a corner of the cellar. "Got you caged," he chuckled. "Come, young spitfire, it's no use. Give up what you've got, or it'll be a double-broken head for you!" Phil was in a desperate dilemma, and realized it. He suddenly lifted the stool and flung it at the man. The latter dodged, evaded it, and advanced for a final swoop on his victim. Phil quickly drew out the sealed letter that Mr. Sabine had written to Dr. Warren. He crumpled it up, planning to stuff it in his mouth and reduce it to a pulp, if he choked for it. His assailant read his purpose, and made a great lunge for him. Phil, about to put his project in execution, suddenly uttered a little cry. Then, staring beyond his advancing opponent, he raised the hand containing the crumpled letter and gave it a fling clear over the head of the man, with the sharp direction: "Catch it, Andy, and--bolt!" The man came flat up against the wall as Phil ducked, but, reaching out a frantic arm, tried to seize his coat. Just then a blow from a stick of wood knocked him to one side. Andy Sabine followed up the attack by grabbing Phil's arm.