Dave Porter and the Runaways Part 17

"Yes, two or three times. But see here, Nat----"

"Will you please tell me how he looked? Was he tall and rather thin?"

"Yes."

"And what kind of hair did he have?"

"Brownish-red, as near as I could make out, and very long. And he had rather a long beard and a large nose," went on our hero.

At this brief but accurate description of the wild man, Nat Poole paled a trifle and uttered something of a gasp.

"Whe--where did he go?" he faltered.

"He rowed down the river just as fast as he could. I don't know how far he went, for the bend hid him from view," answered our hero. "Say, Nat, do you think you know that man?"

"Why--er--know him? Of course I don't know him," was the stammered-out reply. "But I--I think--maybe--I've met him." And then, to avoid further questioning, Nat Poole hurried away. Our hero could do nothing but stare after him.

"That is mighty queer," mused Dave, as he turned into the library to consult the reference book. "If Nat doesn't know the man, why was he so anxious? He acted scared to death when I said the fellow called himself the King of Sumatra."

Dave remained in the school library for a half an hour and then joined Phil, Roger, and the others in Dormitory Number Twelve. He found the students discussing a talk Roger had had with Nat Poole only a few minutes before.

"Nat called me out in the hallway," said the senator's son. "He wanted to know all about that wild man, and he wanted to make dead certain that he had called himself the King of Sumatra."

"That is certainly queer--on top of what happened to me," said Dave, and told of the interview he had had.

"Well, this is a puzzle," declared Phil, slowly. "What do you make of it, Dave?"

"I think Nat imagines he knows the wild man."

"That's the way it looks to me," added the senator's son.

"Say, you don't suppose that wild man has anything to do with the fellows Nat used to train with--Jasniff, Merwell, and that crowd?"

questioned Buster.

"It's possible, but I don't think so," returned our hero. "He is surely a crazy individual, and as n.o.body around here seems to know him, he must be a stranger to these parts."

"But what would make Nat so interested?" asked little Chip Macklin.

"Give it up," answered Roger.

"Maybe he has something to tell, but won't tell it to us," ventured Phil. "He may go right to the doctor."

But if Nat Poole went to the master of Oak Hall, or to anybody else at that inst.i.tution, the boys did not hear of it. He asked no more questions about the wild man, and when any of our friends came near him he immediately walked away, thus avoiding an interview.

The proposed meeting of the athletic committee of Oak Hall was held on Sat.u.r.day afternoon in the gymnasium and was well attended. An even twenty names had been put up for the regular baseball nine of the inst.i.tution. Of these names, fifteen belonged to old students and five were those of newcomers to Oak Hall. As he had said he would do, Gus Plum had handed in his name, and so had Sam Day and some of our other friends. But Dave, Phil, and Roger were conspicuous by their absence.

"See here, Porter, you're going to play, aren't you?" asked the former manager.

"No," answered Dave, quietly but firmly.

"Why not?"

"Well, in the first place, I have too many back lessons to make up, and in the second place, I hope to graduate this coming June, and I want to make a record for myself, if possible."

"But you can do that and play on the nine, too," urged the manager.

"I don't think so. I'd like to play," continued our hero, wistfully, "but I don't see how I can."

"This isn't fair, Porter. We really need you."

"Oh, it isn't as bad as that," returned Dave, with a faint smile.

"You've got Gus Plum to pitch, and some of the others. There are plenty of good ball-players here this term."

"I don't know about that," answered the manager, with a grave shake of his head. "I wish you'd come in."

"Not this year," said Dave; and then the two separated.

Phil and Roger were likewise urged to try for the nine, but they followed Dave's example. Then a tentative nine was formed, with Gus Plum as pitcher, and also a "scrub" nine, with one of the newcomers to Oak Hall in the box. Practice was to start on Wednesday afternoon of the following week.

"Too bad we couldn't take part," sighed the shipowner's son. "I'd like to wallop the Rockville Military Academy fellows just once more!"

"Well, we can't have everything," answered Dave. "I want to graduate with the highest possible honors, and that means plenty of hard boning."

"And a fellow can't bone and play ball, too," added Roger.

"We might--if old Haskers would be easy on us," murmured the shipowner's son.

"Now, see here, Phil," said Dave, almost sternly. "Don't ask Haskers for any more favors. He has done all that can reasonably be expected of him."

"All right, just as you say," grumbled Phil. But his manner showed that he was not altogether satisfied.

A week went by, and Dave and his chums applied themselves diligently to their studies. During that time nothing more was heard of the wild man, and the excitement concerning that strange individual again died down. But the folks living in the vicinity of the woods back of Oak Hall were on their guard, and it was seldom that women and children went out alone.

The boys were doing very well in their studies, and Dave received warm words of encouragement from Andrew Dale. He had made up nearly all the back lessons imposed upon him by Job Haskers, and that dictatorial teacher could not help but be satisfied over the showing made. Roger was also doing well, and poor Phil was the only one who was backward, although not enough to cause alarm.

"I'll get there, but it comes hard," said the shipowner's son. "I should have asked old Haskers for more time."

"Don't you do it," answered Dave. "Come, I'll help you all I can."

Which he did.

One day there came a letter to our hero which gave him great satisfaction. He read it carefully, and then hastened off to communicate the news to Phil, Roger, and Ben.

"It's a letter from my Uncle Dunston," he explained to his chums. "If you will remember, he said he would hire a lawyer to take up that Mrs.

Breen case against Professor Haskers."

"What does he say?" asked Roger, quickly.

"I will read it to you," answered Dave, and read the following: