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Chapter 32 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 his body round, he finally gave it up. It seemed likely that he must stay here all night. The next day probably some one would come by, as they were so near a public road, upon whom he could call to release him.
 
"The night will seem about a week long," poor Harry considered. "I shan't dare to go to sleep, for fear I may freeze to death."
 
The horse whinnied again, and again looked inquiringly at his young driver, but the latter was not master of the situation, and was obliged to disregard the mute appeal.
 
"I wonder the robber didn't carry off the horse," thought Harry. "I suppose he had his reasons. It isn't likely he left him out of his regard for me."
 
Two hours passed, and Harry still found himself a prisoner. His constrained position became still more uncomfortable. He longed for the power of jumping up and stretching his legs, now numb and chilled, but the cord was strong, and defied his efforts. No person had passed, not had he heard any sound as he lay there, except the occasional whinny of the horse which was tied as well as himself, and did not appear to enjoy his confinement any better.
 
It was at this moment that Harry's heart leaped with sudden hope, as he heard in the distance the sound of a whistle. It might be a boy, or it might be a man; but, as he listened intently, he perceived that it was coming nearer.
 
"I hope I can make him hear," thought Harry, earnestly.
 
It was a boy of about his own age, who was advancing along the road from which he had turned into the lane. The boy was not alone, as it appeared, for a large dog ran before him. The dog first noticed the horse and buggy, and next our hero, lying on the ground, and, concluding that something was wrong, began to bark violently, circling uncomfortably near Harry, against whom he seemed to cherish hostile designs.
 
"What's the matter, Caesar?" shouted his young master.
 
"Good dog!" said Harry, soothingly, in momentary fear that the brute would bite him.
 
But Caesar was not to be cajoled by flattery. "Bow, wow, wow!" he answered, opening his large mouth, and displaying a formidable set of teeth.
 
"Good dog! I'd like to choke him!" added Harry, in an undertone to himself.
 
There was another volley of barks, which seemed likely to be followed by an attack. Just at this moment, however, luckily for our hero, the dog's master came up.
 
"Why, Caesar," he called, "what is the matter with you?"
 
"Please take your dog away," said Harry. "I am afraid he will bite me."
 
"Who are you?" inquired the boy, in surprise.
 
"Come and untie these cords, and I will tell you."
 
"What! Are you tied?"
 
"Yes, hand and foot."
 
"Who did it?" asked the boy, in increasing surprise.
 
"I don't know his name, but he robbed me of my pocketbook before doing it."
 
"What, a robber around here!" exclaimed the boy, incredulous.
 
"Yes; I met him first over in Carmansville. Thank you; now my feet if you please. It seems good to be free again"; and Harry swung his arms, and jumped up and down to bring back the sense of warmth to his chilled limbs.
 
"Is this horse yours?" asked the boy.
 
"Yes; I took up the man and he promised to show me the road to Pentland."
 
"This isn't the road to Pentland."
 
"I suppose not. He took me wrong on purpose."
 
"How much money did he take from you?"
 
"Forty dollars."
 
"That's a good deal," said the country boy. "Was it yours?"
 
"Yes."
 
"I never had so much money in my life."
 
"It has taken me almost six months to earn it. But I had more money with me, only he did............
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