I suspect he wanted to show his watch, as most boys do when for the first time they become the proud possessor of one. On the way he met Philip Ross and James Congreve. The latter he had not seen since they parted in the wood. “There’s our young captive, Philip,” said Congreve. “He’s got a watch. At any rate, I see a watch chain,” said Philip, whose curiosity was excited. “Hello!” called out Congreve, as they met; “where did you get that watch?” “I don’t see wherein my having a watch should concern you; but I do know, after the contemptible treatment I received at your hands yesterday, your questions deserve no notice from me. But, as matters turned out so well, I can afford to swallow my indignation.” “It was rather a mean trick, leaving you bound in the wood,” said Congreve, candidly. “I wouldn’t have done it, except to oblige Philip.” “Has he told you how he liked being tied himself?” Congreve looked, in surprise, at Philip. The latter had not chosen to say anything about his own adventure in Temple’s hut. When Harry told the story, not omitting to mention that he had compelled Philip to beg his pardon before he released him, Congreve burst into hearty laughter, while Philip stood by, angry and ashamed. “That’s the best joke I ever heard,” said Congreve. “I wish I had been there to see.” “I thought you were my friend,” said Philip, indignantly. “I laugh at my friends sometimes,” said Congreve. “What a splendid joke!” Philip didn’t see it in that light, and was so mortified that he didn’t give Congreve an opportunity to ask further about the watch, but hurriedly moved on. All the remainder of the afternoon he passed in a sullen frame of mind. CHAPTER XXX — CONGREVE’S SCHEME James Congreve was a dangerous companion for Philip. He was utterly unscrupulous, but took care to keep up a semblance of propriety, in order not to terrify the boy whom he was leading into mischief. They had commenced playing cards for amusement—at least, that was Congreve’s pretext—but it had led to playing for a stake. Occasionally, when the stake was small, Congreve allowed Philip to win; but, when more than a dollar was staked on the game, he generally managed to win himself. Of course, Philip did not know that he was a victim, and that his chosen friend, Congreve, was a skillful sharper, who had practiced his art on Western steamboats, and was sure to get the better of him. Why had he remained in this country village so long? Surely, it didn’t pay him to fleece one victim, and that one a boy. I can give the explanation. He had been leading a fast life for a year back, and a physician whom he consulted had recommended country air and quiet for the summer. “Unless you follow my directions, Mr. Congreve,” he said, “I won’t answer for your life. You have been going at too quick a pace altogether.” James was sensible enough to follow this advice, and that is why we find him a guest at the quiet village hotel.