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 snatched 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."
"He spoke about the blowing up of the hotel," said Dave. "And he said
somebody saw him do it."
"Who was it?"
"He didn't mention any names."
"Maybe he was simply wandering in his mind," suggested Ben.
"I don't think so," returned Dave. "I think, if he was questioned long
enough, we could get the truth out of him. He doesn't seem to be crazy
all the time."
"It's a terrible thing for the Poole family--to have such a crazy man
in it," was Buster's opinion; and the other lads agreed with him.
The prisoner was marched along the brook, past the home of old Herick,
and then down the river-road. By this time all the searchers had come
together, including Henry Morrison and some outsiders.
"I'm mighty glad you've got him," said the farmer. "And I hope he
don't get away from you."
"He won't get away," answered Mr. Dale.
"The women of this district have been afraid to go out alone," went on
Henry Morrison. "They'll be glad to know he's been captured."
"We'll have to let the Pooles know right away," said Dave.
"I fancy Doctor Clay will send a telegram," answered Mr. Dale. "And
in the meanwhile we'll have to take the prisoner to the Oakdale
lockup."
It was nearly noon when the crowd reached Oak Hall. The wild man had
but little to say. His capture had evidently broken his spirit, and he
was inclined to cry. But when Doctor Clay asked him if he would like
to have something to eat, he brightened up wonderfully.
"It is a sad case," said the master of the Hall. "But under proper
treatment I think he can be cured."
The news quickly circulated throughout the school that the wild man
had been caught and that he was Wilbur Poole, an uncle to Nat, and all
the boys were anxious to catch a sight of the strange individual. The
teachers and servants were likewise curious, and looked at him as he
ate his dinner in a corner of the dining-hall, surrounded by those who
had captured him and who were watching, to see that he did not get
away. He was not allowed to use a knife and fork, but his food was cut
up for him and served with a spoon.
The only person at Oak Hall who did not come in to see the wild man
was Job Haskers. When asked about this, the dictatorial teacher
shrugged his shoulders.
"Some of the boys are wild enough for me," he said. "I want nothing to
do with the insane."
"It is a sad case," said the teacher who was addressing Job Haskers.
"There are many just as bad," responded the other, coldly. "It is up
to the Poole family to look after that man and see that he doesn't
break out again."
It was decided to take the wild man down to Oakdale in the school
carryall, to be driven by Horsehair. Mr. Dale was to go along, and so
were Phil, Dave, Ben, Buster, and Doctor Clay.
The carryall was brought around to the side entrance of the school,
and Wilbur Poole was told that he was about to take a ride through the
country. He walked through the hallway willingly enough, but suddenly,
on turning a corner, set up a shout.
"You! you! I have found you at last!" he cried, rushing forward. "You
are the one who exposed me! Base soldier that you are! You have ruined
the whole army!" And in a sudden fit of passion he ran up to Job
Haskers and caught him by the throat.
"Le--let g-g-go!" gasped the teacher, and tried to shake the man off.
Then the others ran up, and Wilbur Poole was dragged back and
handcuffed.
"Do you know that man?" asked Dave, struck by a sudden idea.
"Yes! yes!" groaned the wild man. "He exposed me! The army is lost!"
"How did he expose you?"
"He saw me do it."
"Do what?"
"Blow up the fort-hotel. Oh, what a base villain he was to look on!"
groaned the wild man, and suddenly commenced to weep.
"What is--the--er--man talking about?" stammered Job Haskers, and all
saw him turn pale.
"He says you saw him blow up Sparr's place," said Dave, pointedly.
"It is false, absurd!" said the teacher. "I--er--I never saw the
rascal before."
"He isn't a rascal, Mr. Haskers. He is simply out of his mind,"
remonstrated Mr. Dale. "He is not accountable for his actions."
"Well, he ought not to say such things," returned the dictatorial
teacher.
"You saw me--you know you did!" cried Wilbur Poole. "You spoiled
everything! I might have blown up many forts if it hadn't been for
you!" And he shook his head dolefully.
"Take him away," said the teacher, and turned his back on the wild
man.
"Dave, I think the wild man speaks the truth!" whispered Phil to our
hero.
"Possibly, Phil. I think the matter will bear investigation."
"And if old Haskers saw the thing done, why didn't he tell about it.
Do you think that letter--"
"It struck me that such might be the truth, Phil. But don't say
anything until you are sure."
"He was down on us--ever since we mentioned that affair with the Widow
Breen," went on the shipowner's son.
"I'd like to see that letter Jason Sparr got--saying we were guilty,"
returned our hero. "Maybe Doctor Clay can get hold of it."
All the way to Oakdale the boys spoke of the case in whispers. Phil
was quite sure Job Haskers had seen Wilbur Poole blow up the hotel and
equally sure that the dictatorial teacher had written the letter to
the hotel-keeper stating he, Dave, and their chums were guilty.
"He thought we'd be locked up, or at least that we'd be sent away from
the school and he would be rid of us," said Phil. "He is growing
afraid of us! Oh, if we can prove that he did it, I'll make it hot for
him!"
"If he did such a thing as that, he ought to be discharged from Oak
Hall," was Ben's comment.
"I'll get my father to sue him for damages," put in Buster.
"Well, don't be hasty," advised Dave. "There may be some
mistake--although I think not."
At Oakdale, Wilbur Poole was turned over to the authorities, who
placed him in a comfortable room attached to the lockup. As it was
known that he was insane, he could not be counted a criminal, and the
majority of the people pitied him and hoped that some day he would be
restored to his right mind.
A telegram was sent to the Poole family, and the next day came a reply
that some men would come to take Wilbur Poole away to a sanitarium. It
was established beyond a doubt that he had used the dynamite to blow
up the dining-room of Sparr's hotel, and, consequently, our hero and
his chums were cleared of that charge, much to their satisfaction.
"I wonder if Nat will come back?" said Shadow. "I should think he
would hate to do it."
"I don't think he will," said Luke.
"What will you do if he does come back, Phil?" asked Gus.
"I don't know, Gus. Of course, I'll let him know what I think of him
for spoiling my plans for a spread. But I hate to be hard on him,
because of this disgrace about his uncle."
"Yes, that's a terrible thing," was Chip Macklin's comment. "I'd hate
to have a crazy man in my family."
"Well, such things can't be helped," put in Polly Vane. "The Poole
family will have to make the best of it."
It was several days later when Nat Poole showed himself. Phil and Dave
did not see him until later, and both were struck by the change in his
appearance. He looked haggard and much older, and his arrogance was
completely gone.
"Got back, eh?" said Phil, walking up to him.
"Yes," returned the money-lender's son, and his voice sounded hollow.
"What have they done with your uncle, Nat?" asked Dave, kindly.
"Put him in another sanitarium, where he will have the best of care
and doctoring."
"I hope he gets well."
"We all hope that." Nat swallowed a lump in his throat and then looked
gloomily at Phil. "Well, you got the best of me," he said, shortly.
"How the best of you?" demanded the shipowner's son.
"I understand you found out about that spread."
"I did."
"Well, I'll pay for the damage done--as soon as I get the money. I
haven't any now--Dad's got too much to pay on Uncle Wilbur's account."
Nat swallowed another lump in his throat. "I'm sorry I did it now,
Phil, honest I am," he went on, brokenly.
"Well, if that's the case, let us drop the matter, Nat," was the
instant reply. "I don't believe in hitting a fellow when he is down.
You haven't got to pay me anything. The whole thing is past and
gone,--and that ends it."
"Thank you." Nat wanted to say something more, but his voice suddenly
broke and he turned away to hide his emotion, and then walked away.
"He's hit and hit hard," said Roger, in a low voice.
"And you did well to drop that matter, Phil," added Dave. "Maybe Nat
has learned a lesson he won't easily forget."
Dave was right about the lesson Nat Poole had learned. He was deeply
humiliated, both by the exposure concerning the feast and by what had
been learned concerning his insane uncle, and for a long time was
quite another boy.
It may be added here that at a new sanitarium, and under first-class
medical treatment, a marked change came over Wilbur Poole, and in less
than a year he was completely cured of his weakmindedness. With a
nurse as a companion he went into the country to rest both body and
mind, and later on came out into the world again as well as anybody.
Strange to say, he remembered nothing of calling himself the King of
Sumatra, nor of blowing up Jason Sparr's hotel. But others did not
forget about the blowing up, and the damage done had to be settled for
by Mr. Aaron Poole, who was his brother's guardian and manager of his
estate for the time being.