“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 attic stairs and demanded suspiciously: 

“What you doin’ there, Zeke?”

“Tryin’ to cheer up Phil Gray,” answered Zeke jocosely.

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

“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 relish 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 deferred till then.

“I don’t care for any supper,” answered Philip.

“Perhaps you expect your meals will be brought up to you?” said Mr. Tucker, with a sneer.

“I haven’t thought about it particularly,” said Philip coolly.

“You may think you’re spitin’ me by not eatin’ anything,” observed Mr. Tucker, who was rather alarmed lest Philip might have made up his mind to starve himself.

This would be embarrassing, for it would make an investigation necessary.

“Oh, no,” answered Philip, smiling; “that never came into my mind.”

“I don’t mind bringin’ you up your supper for once,” said Tucker.  “Of course, I can’t do it reg’lar, but this is the first night.”

“I suppose I shall be better able to make my escape if I eat,” thought Philip.  “Probably the most sensible thing is to accept this offer.”

“How much are you to get for my board, Mr. Tucker?” he asked.

“Only sixty cents,” grumbled Tucker.  “It ain’t enough, but the town won’t pay any more.  You’ve no idea what appetites them paupers has.”

“You made a mistake when you agreed to take me,” said Philip gravely.  “I’m very hearty, you’ll be sure to lose money on me.”

Mr. Tucker looked uneasy.

“Well, you see I expect to have you earn part of your board by doin’ chores,” he said, after a pause.

“That will give me a good chance to run away,” remarked Philip calmly.  “You’ll have to let me out of this room to work, you know.”