LITMIR.BIZ

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yonder--in between those bushes!"

      "Why, it's a rowboat."

      "Exactly, Gus, and do you see how it is painted, drab with blue stripes?"

      "Of course--a pretty ugly boat, I think."

      "Gus, that is the very rowboat used by that wild man--the one he was in when he got away from us that day!"

      "Do you really mean it?" gasped the big boy, staring hard at the craft.

      "I certainly do--I'd know that boat in a hundred. I never saw another just like it."

      "If that's the case, maybe the wild man is on the island!"

      "Just what I was thinking," answered Dave. "And I was thinking, too, that----" He stopped short.

      "What?"

      "Don't you remember how Nat was so anxious to know all about the wild man? And how upset he seemed to be when he heard that the fellow called himself the King of Sumatra?"

      "Yes, I remember that. Do you think he came here to find the man?" demanded Gus, quickly.

      "It looks so to me."

      "My gracious, Dave, I think you are right! Say, there is something mysterious about all this!" cried Gus.

      "Exactly."

      "Let us go ashore by all means and see what Nat is up to," urged the big youth.

      Dave was more than willing, now that he had discovered the rowboat used by the wild man. Perhaps this island was the home of that mysterious individual. If so, what was the money-lender's son doing there? Had he business with the strange creature?

      "Maybe we'd better not make any noise," suggested Gus, as the boat was turned in to a convenient landing-place. To this Dave did not reply, but they landed as silently as possible. Then the rowboat was hauled up out of sight between the bushes.

      From the craft used by the wild man a rude path ran up from the shore to the rocks beyond. A short distance from the shore the boys saw the marks of a wet foot, coming from the direction where lay the motor-boat.

      "That was made by Nat--he got his left foot wet," said Gus.

      "I think so myself," answered our hero.

      They followed the marks left by the wet foot over the rocks. They headed for the upper end of the island, where there was a small grove of straggly cedar trees. Here the marks faded away completely.

      "Well, we know he came this way, anyhow," remarked Gus. "He can't be very far off, for the island isn't very big."

      "I see a rude log cabin!" exclaimed Dave, and pointed through the cedars. "Maybe that is where the wild man lives."

      "If it is, we want to go slow, Dave. He may attack us."

      "But what of Nat, if he is there?"

      "He may know the man and have some influence over him."

      "I hardly think anybody could have any influence over that man. He is as crazy as can be, and not to be trusted."

      The two youths approached the old log cabin slowly, keeping as much as possible in the shelter of the trees. Nobody was in sight, nor did any sound reach their ears.

      Presently the students found themselves within fifty feet of the cabin, the door of which stood half open. Each looked at the other.

      "I'm going ahead," said Dave, resolutely. He and his companion had provided themselves with sticks, and Gus had also picked up two stones.

      "Oh! oh! oh!" came of a sudden, to their startled ears. "Oh dear me!"

      "It's Nat!" ejaculated Dave. "Something has happened to him!"

      "Maybe the wild man attacked him," added Gus.

      "We'll soon see," cried Dave, and started forward on a run.

      Soon our hero was at the door of the cabin, which he pushed wide open. Inside all was dark, for it was growing late, and the rude structure boasted of but one small window, stuffed with cedar boughs to keep out the wind.

      "Nat, where are you?" cried Dave, as his eyes sought to pierce the semi-darkness.

      "Who--who is that calling me?" came, in surprise, from the center of the cabin.

      "It is I--Dave Porter! Where are you, and what happened? Where is the wild man?"

      "Oh, I'm caught fast--in a trap!" groaned the money-lender's son. "Oh, help me out! My ankle is almost broken!"

      "But the wild man--?" queried Gus, who was close behind our hero.

      "I--I don't know where he is," gasped Nat. "Oh, say, won't you please help me? My ankle is fast in a trap! Oh, how it hurts!"

      "Wasn't the wild man here?" asked Dave, as he got out his match-box to strike a light.

      "No--at least, I haven't seen him."

      Dave soon had a match lit, and with it set fire to a cedar bough placed in the rude fireplace of the cabin. By the glare of this light he and Gus looked around them and at their fellow-student.

      The cabin was unfurnished excepting for a rude bench and a board placed on some piles of stones for a table. In the fireplace were a kettle and a frying-pan, and on the table the remains of a scanty meal of crackers, eggs, and apples. A tin pail, half filled with water, was also handy.

      When Dave and Gus turned their attention to Nat Poole they had to stare in wonder. Nat sat on the floor, nursing a bruised ankle that was caught fast between the jaws of an old-fashioned steel animal-trap. The trap was chained to the floor, and the release chain ran to a corner of the fireplace, several feet beyond the sufferer's reach.

      "However did this happen?" asked Gus, although he and our hero could easily guess the answer to the question.

      "Help me get loose first," groaned poor Nat. "This thing is sawing down to the bone."

      Dave saw the release chain, which was held firm by a hook. Stepping over, he unhooked it, and then it was an easy matter to pry the jaws of the steel-trap apart. As soon as this was done, Nat rose slowly to his feet, making a wry face as he did so.

      "I'll be lame for life--I know I will!" he groaned. "Oh dear, how it hurts!"

      "You take care that you don't get blood-poisoning from it," warned Gus. "When you get home wash it well, and put some peroxide of hydrogen, or something like that on it."

      "Blood-poisoning! Oh dear!" and Nat gave another groan.

      "Shall we help you back to your boat?" asked Dave.

      "If you will."

      "Where is the wild man?" questioned Gus, looking around.

      "I don't know, and I don't care--just now," answered Nat Poole.

      CHAPTER XIV

      THE BANDANNA HANDKERCHIEF

      Nat Poole could hardly walk on the injured leg, so Dave and Gus supported him as the three left the rude cabin and headed for the shore of the island.

      "Do you know where the wild man is?" repeated Gus, who had not been satisfied by the reply given to the question before.

      "I do not," snapped the money-lender's son, with a touch of his former tartness. "I haven't seen him."

      "But you know that cabin is where he lives," put in our hero.

      "I thought so--but I wasn't sure of it."

      "Did

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