to detain you some time longer."

"Have you got any more business with me?"

"Yes, I have. You've hit it exactly. You'll soon know what it is."

He produced a ball of cord from a pocket of his inside coat, and with
a knife severed a portion. "Do you know what this is for?" he asked,
jeeringly.

"No."

"Say, 'No, sir.' It's more respectful. Well, I'll gratify your laudable
curiosity. It's to tie your hands and feet."

"I won't submit to it," said Harry, angrily.

"Won't you?" asked the other, coolly. "This is a very pretty pistol,
isn't it? I hope I shan't have to use it."

"What do you want to tie my hands for?" asked Harry.

"For obvious reasons, my young friend."

"I can't drive if my hands are tied."

"Correct, my son. I don't intend you to drive tonight. Give me your
hands."

Harry considered whether it would be advisable to resist. The stranger
was not much larger than himself. He was a man, however, and naturally
stronger. Besides, he had a pistol. He seceded that it was necessary
to submit. After all, he had saved his employer's money, even if he had
lost his own, and this was something. He allowed himself to be bound.

"Now," said the stranger, setting him up against the stone wall, which
bordered the lane, "I will bid you good night. I might take your horse,
but, on the whole, I don't want him. I will fasten him to this tree,
where he will be all ready for you in the morning. That's considerate in
me. Good night. I hope you are comfortable."

He disappeared in the darkness, and Harry was left alone.

CHAPTER XXXII. THE GOOD SAMARITAN

Harry's reflections, as he sat on the ground were not the most cheerful.
He was sitting in a constrained posture, his hands and feet being tied,
and, moreover, the cold air chilled him. The cold was not intense, but
as he was unable to move his limbs he, of course, felt it the more.

"I suppose it will get colder," thought Harry, uncomfortably. "I wonder
if there is any danger of freezing."

The horse evidently began to feel impatient, for he turned round and
looked at our hero. "Why don't you keep on?"

"I wish somebody would come this way," thought Harry, and he looked up
and down the lane as well as he could, but could see no one.

"If I could only get at my knife," said Harry, to himself, "I could cut
theses cords. Let me try."

He tried to get his hands into his pockets, but it was of no avail. The
pocket was too deep, and though he worked