"They saw something, but they don't know what it was," said Mrs.

Wadsworth, who was plainly much agitated. "It let out the most awful yells you ever heard."

"Maybe it was that wild man, Wilbur Poole!" exclaimed Dave. "He might have followed us to this place, you know."

He ran on, and soon joined the other boys and Mr. Wadsworth, who had come to a halt at the edge of the clearing on which the bungalows were located.

"I think he disappeared over here!" cried Shadow.

"And I think he went this way!" returned Luke.

"When I saw him last he was by yonder bushes!" were Roger's words.

"I think he went over there, just as Shadow said!" came from Phil.

"Who was it?" asked Dave. "Wilbur Poole?"

"Whoever he was, he had the most outlandish rig on a fellow ever saw!"

exclaimed Luke. "I think he must have borrowed it from some scarecrow."

"If that was Wilbur Poole we had better keep our eyes open for him,"

said Dave, seriously. He had not forgotten the trouble which the wild man who called himself the King of Sumatra had given him and his chums in the past.

"We were all sitting there enjoying ourselves when we heard the fellow give an awful yell or two," explained Phil. "Then he came dancing out from behind some bushes, waving a sort of sceptre in the air. He nearly scared the girls into fits, and that is what made them scream. Then he caught up a stick of wood from the pile yonder, and disappeared between the trees. I guess he must have imagined he was a wild Indian on the warpath."

"I am afraid if that poor fellow isn't captured he will cause us a good deal of worry," was Mr. Wadsworth's comment. "As long as he is at large there is no telling what he will do."

"If it really is Wilbur Poole, we ought to let the Pooles know about it," said Dave.

The matter was talked over for some time, and then, after another search through the edge of the woods and among the rocks and brushwood of that vicinity, the boys and Mr. Wadsworth returned to the bungalows. They found all of the girls and Mrs. Wadsworth on one of the verandas, discussing the situation. Even Jessie had joined the group, declaring that the alarm had scared most of her headache away.

"Oh, I was so frightened when I first saw the man--if it really was a man!" cried Laura.

"He looked more like an orang-outang," declared the girl from the West.

"If I had met him out on the range, and if I had had a gun with me, I surely would have shot at him!"

"I brought a gun along," returned Dave, exhibiting the weapon; "I thought it was a bear scare."

The scare was the topic of conversation all through the dinner hour, and it was decided that a letter should be posted to Mr. Aaron Poole the following morning, acquainting him with what had occurred.

"It's queer that my husband and Ben and Mr. Porter don't come," remarked Mrs. Ba.s.swood, when the meal was nearly over and it was growing dark.

"It's quite a walk to Carpen Falls," said Dave. "And you must remember the trail isn't any too good in some spots."

"I think I see them coming now," announced Roger, a minute later; and he was right. Soon Ben and his father and Dunston Porter came into full view near the end of the lake.

"Talk about an adventure!" cried Ben, as they came up. "Who do you think we met?"

"The wild man!" burst out several of those present.

"Oh, then he was here, was he? Was it Wilbur Poole?"

"We are not so sure about that. We didn't get a very good look at him.

He had on such a queer outfit that he was completely disguised."

"That's just it!" broke in Dunston Porter. "We couldn't tell who he was, either. He appeared right in front of us on the trail, flourishing a big stick. He let out a whoop like an Indian, gave a leap or two into the air, and then dashed out of sight behind some bushes."

"He didn't attack you, did he?" questioned Mrs. Ba.s.swood, anxiously.

"No," returned her husband, "but, all the same, I didn't like his actions. He might have done some serious damage with the stick he carried."

"That man, whoever he is, ought to be put under guard," declared Phil, and then he added quickly: "Did you get any letters, Ben?"

"Oh, yes, several of them. Here they are," and placing his hand in the pocket of his jacket, the youth brought forth over a dozen epistles.

There was a wild scramble, and the letters were quickly distributed.

"Oh, good! Here's a letter from dear dad!" exclaimed Belle. "Excuse me while I read it," and she quickly tore open the communication.

All of the girls had letters, and there was also one for Dave and another for Phil. As our hero looked at the communication addressed to him, he could not help but start. He thought he recognized the handwriting as that of Link Merwell.

"I wonder what he has got to say now," he mused, and then as the others began reading their letters, he opened the envelope and took out the single sheet it contained.

In a large, heavy hand were scrawled these words:

"I think before long you will be getting what is coming to you, you poorhouse n.o.body."

There was no signature.

CHAPTER XVII

THE SWIMMING RACE

Dave read the brief communication over several times. As he did so his face showed both perplexity and anger. Roger, who had received no letter and who therefore had nothing to read, looked at him curiously.

"No bad news, I hope?" he said, as he came up to Dave.

"I think it's another communication from that good-for-nothing Link Merwell," returned Dave. "Here, you can read it for yourself," and he pa.s.sed the letter over.

The senator's son read the scrawl, and his face showed his disgust.

"I guess you're right, Dave, it must be from Link Merwell."

"Link Merwell!" broke in Shadow, who sat on a bench near by. "What about that rascal; have you heard something further of him?"