LITMIR.BIZ

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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.

      CHAPTER XXIX

      A BIT OF EVIDENCE

      "Dave, what do you make of this?"

      "Well, to tell the truth, Phil, I don't think much of it."

      "You don't think it is a clew?"

      "Do you?"

      "It's rather faint, I must confess."

      "Oh, I don't think there is anything to it," declared Ben.

      "There is something, but not a great deal," came from Roger. "I don't see how you are going to follow it up."

      This talk between the boys occurred after Dave, Phil, Ben, Roger, and Buster had called upon Jason Sparr and the justice and insisted on seeing the letter the hotel man had received which stated that the boys were guilty of blowing up the dining-room of his hostelry.

      The hotel man had treated them kindly, for he was in dread that the boys would get their folks to sue him for damages. He had offered to pay back the money taken from Phil for the spread, and the shipowner's son had taken the amount, to which he was justly entitled.

      The examination of the letter had revealed next to nothing. It was evidently written

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