Mark Mason's Victory Part 59

"Why, he isn't here!" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed.

"Isn't here?" shouted Oscar in amazement.

"No; and the winder is open," exclaimed Mr. Sprague.

"He wouldn't dare to jump out, would he?"

Nahum Sprague advanced to the window and put his head out, expecting to see Philip on the ground beneath, perhaps with a broken limb. But no Philip was visible!

CHAPTER x.x.xIII.

A CHANGE FOR PHILIP.

MR. SPRAGUE and Oscar looked at each other in complete stupefaction.

"What does it mean? Where can the boy have gone?" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Nahum.

"I'll be blest if I know," returned Oscar.

"The door was locked. He must have gone through the window. There wasn't any rope in the room, was there?"

"No."

"And if he jumped out he would certainly have broken his neck, or his limbs."

"He wouldn't have dared to jump. He's no braver than a mouse."

"It's the most mysterious thing I ever heard of," said Mr. Sprague, wrinkling his brows.

"What are you going to do about it, dad?"

"I don't know. I'm flabbergasted."

"I'll tell you what to do when you get him back," suggested Oscar. "Give him a sound thras.h.i.+ng. It will do him good."

"You can depend upon that. I think it may be well after breakfast for you to go round and inquire if he has been seen in the village."

"What shall I say about his running away?"

"Say he's a little touched in the upper story."

"I guess he'd better be touched somewhere else," said Oscar with a loud laugh at his own wit.

Considerably to his disgust Oscar was set to work doing some of Philip's ch.o.r.es directly after breakfast, and it was nine o'clock before he got ready to start in quest of Philip. Even then he did not start, for an open buggy stopped at the gate, driven by a man from the village, and containing as pa.s.senger, a boy of sixteen. This boy was Mark Mason, as the reader will easily conjecture.

"Who's that, Oscar! Is it one of your friends?" asked Nahum Sprague.

"No; never saw him before in my life."

Mark advanced directly to Mr. Sprague.

"Is this Mr. Nahum Sprague?" he asked.

"Yes; that's my name."

"Does a boy named Philip Lillis live with you?"

"And what if there does?" inquired Mr. Sprague cautiously.

"I am sent from New York to take charge of him."

"You! A boy like you?" exclaimed Nahum in surprise. "Why, you ain't over sixteen."

"You've guessed my age exactly," said Mark with a smile.

"Who sends you?"

"Mr. David Gilbert."

"Is he--rich?" asked Nahum curiously.

"Well, he's pretty well off."

"And he is willing to take care of the boy?"

"Yes. Can I see Philip?"

"Well," answered Nahum Sprague in an embarra.s.sed tone, "you can pretty soon."

"And why not now?"

"The fact is, rather a cur'us thing happened last night. The boy disappeared."

"Is that true?" asked Mark with some suspicion.

"Yes. Fact is, the boy ain't quite right in his head."

"I am sorry for that," said Mark gravely. "How long has he been affected that way?"

"Only lately, I don't think it will last."

"Please tell me the circ.u.mstances."

"Why, we locked him in the attic for fear he might get out and come to some harm when he was light-headed, and this morning we couldn't find him."