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"Who calls me Poole? I am the King of Sumatra. My army is following me."
"To blow up another fort, I suppose," said Phil, as he commenced to back away.
"Yes."
"Then I must go, for I don't want to be blown up," and, so speaking, Phil commenced to retreat.
"The fort is not here--it is in Oakdale, close to the other fort,"
said the wild man, and now he came down from the big rock and stood quite close to Dave. There was a strange look of cunning in his eyes, and Dave had to shiver, although he did his best to keep calm.
"In Oakdale," said Dave, slowly. "Say, you blew up that hotel fort in fine shape, didn't you?"
"Ha! ha! so I did! But I was discovered, worse luck, I was discovered!" continued the wild man, with a sad shake of his head.
"The enemy saw me!"
"Somebody saw you?" queried our hero, with interest.
"Yes, worse luck. But it shan't happen again. Next time I shall go masked. I have my mask here." And Wilbur Poole pulled from his pocket a mask made of a bit of blue cloth. "I will show you how I wear it."
And he fastened it over his face by means of a couple of strings.
"Fine! fine!" cried Dave, in pretended delight. He wished to humor the man until Phil returned with the others. "It couldn't be better. You ought to patent that kind of a mask."
"I will patent it soon, after the other fort is down."
"You just said somebody saw you when you blew up the other," continued our hero. "Who was it?"
"Ha! that is a state secret. Only the cabinet must know of it--the cabinet and the man who makes shoes."
"I am sorry you won't let me in on your secrets," said Dave. "I want to help you. Won't you hire me as a clerk?"
"How much do you want a week?" demanded the wild man, in a business-like tone.
"How much will you give?"
"To a good clerk forty dollars."
"Then I'll take the job."
"Very good. Your name is Crusoe, isn't it--Robinson Crusoe?"
"You've got it."
"If I give you the job, you must have your hair shaved off," continued the wild man, looking at Dave's hair critically.
"All right, I'll have that done when we reach a barber shop."
"It isn't necessary to wait!" cried Wilbur Poole. "I am a barber."
"You?"
"To be sure--I have a certificate from the Emperor of Siam. See here!"
The wild man put his hand into an inner pocket and suddenly brought forth a pair of long shears.
"I can cut your hair and shave you," he announced. "Just sit down on yonder throne and I'll start to work." And he pointed to a flat rock.
The sight of the sharp-pointed shears was not a pleasant one, and when the wild man invited him to sit down Dave felt very much like running away. The man evidently saw how he felt, and suddenly caught him by the arm.
"Sit down!" he thundered. "I won't hurt you. I am an expert barber."
"Let us talk about the job first," said Dave, trying to keep his wits about him, although he was terribly disturbed. He wondered how long it would be before Phil would return.
"What do you want to know?"
"Will you cut my hair in the latest fashion?"
"I never cut hair in any other way."
"And will you curl the ends? I like curls."
"If you want them, although they make a man look girlish," answered the wild man.
"And will you----" went on Dave, when Wilbur Poole suddenly grabbed him by both arms and forced him backwards on the flat rock.
"I'll go to work at once!" cried the wild man. "Sit still!" And he flourished the shears before our hero's face.
Dave felt a chill run down his backbone. But a moment later he felt a thrill of relief, as from the bushes behind the wild man stepped Phil, Mr. Dale, and several others.
CHAPTER XXVIII
THE CAPTURE OF THE WILD MAN
"Now then, you may go to work," said our hero, as he saw Mr. Dale come up close behind the wild man. "But sharpen the scissors first, please."
"I will," was Wilbur Poole's answer, and he opened up the shears and commenced to stroke them back and forth on a rock near by.
An instant later the wild man was jerked over backwards and the dangerous shears were s.n.a.t.c.hed from his grasp. He commenced to struggle, but the whole crowd surrounded him, and before he could realize the situation his hands were made fast.
"It is treachery, base treachery!" he groaned. "My army has betrayed me!" And he commenced to weep.
"What a terrible state of mind to be in!" murmured Roger. "He is certainly as crazy as they make 'em!"
"I guess you are right," answered Phil. "But I am glad we have got him."