though harry was a courageous boy, his heart sank within him when he found himself left alone in the wood, bound hand and foot.

pegan hill woods were of considerable extent. in length they extended about three miles, while in width they ranged from a mile and a half to two miles.

probably the party had penetrated nearly a mile into the wood, and the tree against which harry was leaning was not far from the center of the wood. the constrained position in which he was sitting became, after a while, somewhat painful. the cords, too, chafed his flesh.

of course, harry thought of the possibility of escape. if he could only unloose the cords he could readily find his way home, reaching there before anxiety or alarm was excited by his absence.

he set to work upon his task, but found, to his disappointment, that he had been too securely bound to make this attempt feasible.

the cord was tied again and again in so hard a knot that, even if he had had the use of both of his hands, he would have found it a work of time to undo them. but when, in addition, his hands were tied, it became well-nigh impossible.

he worked until he was tired, and rested, feeling that thus far he had really accomplished nothing.

"philip is about the meanest boy i know of," he thought to himself, bitterly. "i suppose he is triumphing over me, as he has a right to do, for he has got me into a very awkward scrape."

this consideration was not likely to make him any less uncomfortable, for harry had his share of human nature. from philip his mind reverted to james congreve. the more he thought of congreve, the less he could understand him. he was certainly a much more gentlemanly boy--or, rather, young man--than philip, and our hero disliked him less, though it was congreve who had tied him.

"he told philip to his face that he was a bully, and as much as said that i had served him right in doing what i did in defense of the two children. i don't see how he can be a friend of philip."

harry had not much knowledge of the world, however, and would have been surprised to hear that congreve was more dangerous and unscrupulous, and altogether bad, than philip himself, in spite of the latter's unamiable traits.

after a while harry made another attempt to loosen the cords; but the second time proved as unsuccessful as the first.

considerable time had passed--how much he did not know--but, from the direction in which the sun glanced in the wood, he concluded that it was as late as six o'clock, and by this time he was almost always at home.

indeed, supper must now be ready, and his mother and their boarder, uncle obed, were probably ready to sit down to the table, and only waiting for him. it was certainly very tantalizing to be lying there helpless, knowing that his mother would soon be anxious and troubled about him.

"if i could only use my knife," thought harry. "i would make short work of these cords."

he had a knife in his pocket. if a boy has only twenty-five cents in his pocket, he is sure to spend it for some kind of a knife, or he must be very different from the average boy.

so, of course, harry was provided with a knife--a good, strong jackknife--but, for all the good it was likely to do him, it might as well have been at home. his hands being tied, of course, he could not get the knife out of his pocket; and, even if he had done so, how could he make use of it?

"i never knew twine was so strong before," thought poor harry, ruefully, after a third unsuccessful attempt to get free.

he lay a while longer, getting more and more hopeless of an early release. by this time his appetite began to assert itself. he had not eaten a very hearty dinner, and naturally felt all the more hungry now.

he began to think wistfully of the good bread and butter and slices of cold meat and pie which his mother was wont to provide for the evening meal, and some twinges of excusable envy were felt, as he pictured james congreve and philip, who had brought this trouble upon him, sitting down at a well-covered supper table, eating as heartily as if they had not left a victim in the woods, helpless and hungry.

"i suppose i shall have to stay here all night," thought poor harry, despondently.

in the morning he was confident of being released. james congreve had promised that he would come and release him, and harry felt confident that he would do so. had it depended upon philip, there would be small chance of it; but it was easy to see that philip and congreve were not alike. of course, this gave him hope, but it was not pleasant to think of a night passed in the dark wood; not that harry was timid or superstitious--he was neither--but it is hard not to be somewhat affected by gloomy surroundings.

while harry was occupied with these reflections, suddenly a peculiar sound came to his ears, and, looking up, he was startled by the sight of a blacksnake, at least four feet long, which, with head erect, was gazing intently at him.

whatever may be the cause of the repulsion that exists between the human race and the snake, it is, at all events, genuine, and harry shared it.

with distended eyes he gazed at this sleek foe of humankind, and felt a strong desire to throw something at it, or crush it under foot. but, alas! he was able to do neither.

suppose it should advance upon him, helpless and unable to defend himself, and strike its fangs into his flesh, or curl, with slippery fold, about him! what could he do? the perspiration came out upon his brow, and he made a tremendous effort to get away.

apparently conscious of his helplessness, the snake remained quietly looking at him, and began, after a pause, to slowly glide toward him.

harry uttered a shrill cry of alarm, which, i am sure, under the circumstances, was not discreditable to his courage, and his soul was filled with horror and repulsion.

it was a fortunate cry, for it brought help. the sound of flying feet was heard, and an instant later a boy of about his own age came rushing up.

"what's the matter?" he asked.

"look there!" said harry, hastily.

"by jehosophat!" exclaimed the boy, and, advancing toward the snake, he aimed a blow at his crest with a rough, stout stick which he held in his hand.

the blow fell with good effect. the snake had not yet seen his new adversary, and was taken unawares. the jagged stick tore his skin, and his head dropped forward, maimed and writhing.

"follow it up!" cried harry, in excitement. "kill him!"

"i'll do it!" said the boy, and he sprang forward to renew his attack.

he found a rock, or, rather, a large stone, close at hand, with which he bruised the serpent's head and killed him.

"ugh, you ugly beast!" he said, in a tone of disgust, miscalling his victim. but, then, a country boy is hardly expected to be well up in natural history.

"thank you," said harry, breathing a sigh of relief.

"why didn't you kill him yourself?" asked the boy. then, for the first time, noticing in the indistinct light harry's condition, he said, in surprise: "what's the matter with you?"

"you see i'm tied."

"who tied you?"

"that's a long story. just untie me, there's a good fellow, and i'll tell you."

the boy whipped out a knife from his pocket and quickly cut the cord. harry sprang up and stretched his arms and legs.

"it seems good to be free once more," he said. "but who tied you?"

"two boys that had a spite against me. at least, one had, and the other was his friend."

"how long have you been lying there?"

"several hours--i can't tell how long."

"it's a mean trick, anyway."

"so it is; i should have had to stay here all night if you hadn't come along."

"or if the snake hadn't swallowed you!" harry shuddered at the mention of the snake.

"that was the worst of it," he said.