Less than half an hour later, the boys found themselves at the top of the cliff where Dave and Phil had seen the encounter between Link Merwell and the so-called wild man. A brief look around convinced them that the locality was deserted.
"Now to find the wild man's trail, if he left one," announced Dave, and the boys scattered in several directions, looking at the ground and the brushwood with great care.
"If we only had one of those Reservation Indians with us, he might help us pick up the trail," declared Roger. "As it is, I must confess I'm not much of a trail-finder."
"Oh, don't give up so soon," returned Dave. "Remember we have the whole day before us."
Presently Ben and Luke, who had turned southward on the cliff, let out a shout.
"Here is something of a trail," announced Ben, when the others came hurrying in that direction, and he pointed to footprints which led throughsome soft soil between a number of low bushes. A little further on they could see where somebody's shoes or boots had carried some of the mud up on to the rocks beyond.
"That certainly does look like a trail," declared Dave. "Let us follow it up a bit, and see where it leads to."
This was considered good advice, and soon, led by our hero, the whole party was moving through the brushwood and over the rocks. Then they came once again to the woods, and here discovered a well-defined trail running southwestward.
"This may be an animal trail for all we know," remarked Shadow. "For my part, I can't tell one kind of trail from another."
"It's quite likely that a fellow like that wild man would use any trail he came across, and so would anybody else trying to move around in a wilderness like this," answered Dave. "I don't think it will do any harm to follow it for some distance."
"Better keep your eyes open, Dave," cautioned Phil. "It may lead us into danger."
"I've got my eyes wide open, and I've got the rifle handy, too," answered our hero, as he once more led the march forward.
The trail was very narrow in places, so that they had to walk in single file. It made a long curve through the forest, and then came out in a little clearing, backed up by a series of jagged rocks.Here there was a small stream, and behind it a spring of pure, cold water.
"It looks to me as if the animals used this trail when they wanted a drink," was Luke's comment. "That water looks pretty good to me," and bending down, he took a deep draught. "It's fine," he went on; "try it!"
The others did as requested, and agreed with Luke that the water was as good as any they had ever tasted. Then began more searching, and before long they found another trail, this time veering to the westward.
The boys pushed forward once again, Dave still in the lead; and thus a half mile more was covered. Then they found themselves between a number of rocks where, presently, the trail seemed to lose itself.
"Say, Dave, we don't seem to be getting anywhere," announced Phil, as having climbed over several very rough rocks, he stopped to regain his breath.
"That's right!" broke in Luke. "And say, we had better go slow unless somebody wants to sprain an ankle. This is the roughest ground I ever tried to get over."
"It is easier walking just ahead," announced Dave, who now stood on the top of one of the rocks, gazing forward. "Come on! I think I see the trail too," and he made a leap from onerock to another and was soon some distance in advance.
The rough rocks left behind, the boys came out on a trail which seemed to come from the north and lead directly up a steep hillside well covered with tall trees. Here the shade was very thick, and the slight breeze that was stirring made the atmosphere decidedly cool.
"Wonder what time it is?" remarked Luke, and drew out his watch as he spoke. "Well, I never! Only ten o'clock! I thought it must be about noon!"
"Getting hungry already?" laughed Dave. "If you are, we might stop for a bite."
"That's it! let's have a bite to eat, and rest at the same time," cried Phil. "We brought plenty of lunch along—enough for several meals."
The boys sat in a sort of circle on some rocks and a fallen tree, and while thus resting partook of a light lunch from one of the knapsacks. Then they moved forward, up the hillside, and presently found themselves on the top of the rise.
"Here is quite a view!" announced Shadow, and they spent a little time in taking in the panorama spread before them. On one side they could see Mirror Lake, and on the other the nearby mountains and also a faraway wagon-road, which they rightly guessed was that running to Carpen Falls and the villages beyond.
"See anything worth looking at outside of the scenery?" questioned Roger of our hero.
"I see some smoke down in yonder hollow," announced Dave. "That must come either from some campfire or else from some cabin, and whether it is from a campfire or a cabin it means that some human being must be there."
"Right you are, Dave! And that human being may be that wild man, or Link Merwell," answered Ben, quickly.
"How far do you think it is to that smoke?" asked Phil.
Various guesses were made, and the consensus of opinion was that the smoke was not over half a mile distant.
"Let us take the trail leading off in that direction," said Dave, and a few minutes later the boys struck out once more.
Much to their surprise, getting down into the hollow between the hills and the nearby mountain was by no means as easy as they had anticipated. The way proved exceedingly rough, and more than once one or another of them was in danger of a serious tumble. As it was, Shadow slipped on the rocks and scraped his hands in several places. Then Luke gave a grunt, announcing that he had barked his left shin.
Dave was still in advance, and now he made a leap from a rock into some low brushwood. Ashe did this there came a sudden cry and a snarl, followed by the movement of some body through the brushwood a short distance ahead.
"Hello! what was that?" cried Phil, who was nearest to our hero.
"I didn't get a very good view of it, Phil," answered Dave, who now had his rifle ready for use, "but unless I was much mistaken, it was a wildcat."
"A wildcat! Great Cæsar! We don't want to run into any such beast as that, Dave."
"Did you see a wildcat? Where is it?" demanded Roger, quickly, as he, too, reached Dave's side.
"It went off in that direction," answered Dave, pointing with the barrel of his rifle. "See! There it is!"
As Dave uttered the last words, Roger and Phil saw a small, tawny-colored body creep out of some distant bushes and make a leap onto a flat rock. The beast was indeed a wildcat, and as it came from cover it swung around for a brief instant to gaze savagely at the boys. Then it crouched low, preparatory to making a leap to another rock higher up.
Crack! It was Dave's rifle that rang out. And following the report the wildcat was seen to leap into the air and then fall back on the rock, where it whirled over and over several times.
"You hit it, Dave!" yelled Phil and Roger, simultaneously.
"What did you shoot at?" called out Ben, as he came plunging forward, followed by Luke and Shadow.
"A wildcat! See, there it is on the rocks!" cried Roger.
"A wildcat! I didn't know there were any left around here," returned Ben, and then he added, quickly: "There it goes! You didn't kill it after all, Dave."
As Ben spoke, the wildcat gave another whirl on the rock, and then slipped off through the bushes out of sight of the boys.
"I'll give him a shot from my gun if he needs it," announced Roger, as he hurried forward.
"Be careful that he doesn't get at you first!" cried Dave, warningly. "If he's only slightly wounded he'll be a dangerous customer to tackle."
The other boys followed Roger, and, having reloaded his weapon, Dave followed suit. Soon all were standing close to the flat rock where the wildcat had been hit.
"Where is it?"
"I don't see him anywhere."
"Be careful, he may land on you before you know it!"
"There! There! Look yonder!" The last cry came from Luke, and at his words all turnedquickly, to see the wildcat crouch between two trees growing close to the rocks. With a snarl, the beast leaped out toward them, the blood flowing from a wound along one forequarter.
Roger had the shotgun ready, and without taking time to bring the weapon to his shoulder, he pulled the trigger.
Bang! went the piece, and then, with a final leap, the wildcat sprang toward the boys, only to drop dead at their feet.
"Good! That's the way to do it!" cried Phil, enthusiastically. "That wildcat won't bother us any more."
"Dave hit him in the forequarter," announced Roger, after an examination of the dead animal. "More than likely the beast would have died from that wound."
"I don't know about that," returned our hero; modestly. "You are the one who settled him. That was a fine shot, Roger. It couldn't have been better." And on this the others agreed.
As no one cared to take the trouble to skin the wildcat, the beast was left where it had fallen, and the boys once more took their way along the trail leading to the spot where they had seen the smoke. Soon the trail made another turn, and then came out on a path which was wider and showed considerable usage.
"Here are footprints," said Ben, pointing tothem. "I believe we are getting close to some sort of a house or cabin."
A few minutes later the broad path they had discovered made another turn, and then in the distance they saw a neat log cabin, located on the bank of a small mountain torrent. From the chimney of the cabin a thin wreath of smoke was curling.
"That's the smoke we must have seen," announced Dave. "Now the question is: Who lives there?"
"And how will they take our arrival," added Phil.
"Wait a minute!" ordered Dave, and put out his hand to stop his chums from advancing. He had seen a man come limping from the mountain torrent with a bucket of water in his hand. Now the man stopped in front of the door to the cabin as if to look around before entering.
"Well, that isn't the wild man; that's sure! And it isn't Link Merwell, either," announced Roger.
"Say, I've seen that man before!" cried Phil, in sudden excitement.
"You have, Phil?" questioned Dave. "Who is he?"
"Who is he? Unless I am greatly mistaken, that is my missing uncle, Lester Lawrence!"
"That man is your uncle?"
"Do you mean the man who disappeared so mysteriously after that robbery?"
"That's the man." Phil's manner showed increased excitement. "Isn't this the strangest thing that ever happened? To think of my running across my uncle in this out-of-the-way place!"
"You want to make sure that he is your uncle first," warned Dave. "Perhaps he is only somebody who looks like your relative, the same as that Ward Porton resembles me," added our hero, with a grim smile.
"Oh, I am sure that man is my uncle," declared the shipowner's son.
"Do you think he is the same fellow we saw before—the wild man?" queried Roger.
"I don't know as to that. Maybe he is," and Phil's face now showed worriment. "I do hope my uncle hasn't lost his mind!"
"Well, he might do that because of his troubles," was Shadow's comment. "It wastrouble that affected Wilbur Poole, if you'll remember."
During the course of this conversation, the boys had withdrawn to the shelter of some trees and brushwood. In the meantime the man with the bucket of water had disappeared within the cabin.
"I noticed he limped considerably," remarked Dave.
"Yes, and he had his left foot bound up," announced Luke. "More than likely he hurt it in some way."
"It would be an easy matter for somebody to hurt his foot if he cut up like that fellow who nearly scared the girls and Link Merwell to death," remarked Ben.
"I am going to the cabin and see what he has to say for himself," declared Phil, resolutely starting forward.
"If you go we had better go with you," announced Dave. "But be careful, Phil. If that man is out of his head he may be dangerous."
"I don't think my Uncle Lester would hurt me even if he was out of his mind," answered the shipowner's son, as he moved toward the cabin, followed closely by the others.
The boys were still a hundred feet or more away from the habitation when the man reappeared at the doorway. On catching sight of the newcomers he uttered a sudden cry of dismay, and thendisappeared like a flash, banging the cabin door shut behind him.
"Evidently he's not very sociable," remarked Luke, dryly. "I guess he doesn't want any visitors."
Advancing to the door, Phil knocked loudly.
"Go away from here! I don't want to see any of you!" cried a heavy voice from within. "Go away, I tell you!"
"Open the door, please. I want to speak with you," answered Phil, as calmly as he could.
"I won't talk to you! I don't want any one around this place!" came angrily from within the cabin. "Go away, or I'll shoot!"
"Say, I don't like this!" cried Shadow, in a low voice. "I guess we had better get out," and he started to retreat, followed by Luke and Ben. Phil, however, stood his ground, and not to desert their chum, Dave and Roger did the same.
"We are not going to molest you," called out Phil, after several seconds of silence. "All I want to do is to talk to you."
"I won't talk to anybody, I tell you! Go away! If you don't I'll use a shotgun on you!" returned the man in the cabin.
"Aren't you Mr. Lester Lawrence?" demanded Phil.
"What's that?" And now the voice of the man showed sudden interest.
"I say: Aren't you Mr. Lester Lawrence?" repeated Phil.
"Who said I was Lester Lawrence?" demanded the man, suspiciously.
"If you are, I must talk to you. I am Phil Lawrence, your nephew."
"Phil Lawrence!" the boys outside heard the man mutter to himself. "Phil Lawrence? Oh, it can't be!" Then he raised his voice: "You are trying to play some trick on me," he shouted.
"It isn't any trick," put in Dave. "This young man here is Philip Lawrence, and he is looking for his uncle, Lester Lawrence. He has good news for him."
"Good news? I can't believe it! It is some trick. I want you all to go away."
"Uncle Lester, it isn't any trick. I am Phil, your nephew. I want to talk to you. I've got the best kind of news for you; something that you'll be glad to hear. Won't you please open the door and let me talk to you?"
"It's a trick, I know it's a trick," came from the man, in almost a whine. Nevertheless, he advanced toward the door, and with trembling hands threw off the bolt that had been shot into place. Then, with great caution, he opened the door several inches and peered out.
"Who says he is Philip Lawrence?" he questioned, sharply.
"I am, Uncle Lester," announced the shipowner's son. "Don't you remember me? You used to think the world and all of me some years ago, when you lived across the street from us."
The man opened the door a little wider, and gazed sharply into Phil's face. Then his manner seemed to change, and, allowing the door to swing wide open, he tottered back and sank down on a bench.
"It's Phil—little Phil, sure enough," he murmured. "How in the world did you come to follow me to this faraway place?"
"I didn't follow you, Uncle Lester," returned the youth. "I and my friends were looking for a wild man who is roaming around in this vicinity, scaring people, and we reached this place by accident. We saw you coming to the cabin with a bucket of water, and I easily recognized you at once."
"I thought I was safe here—safe from the whole world," muttered Lester Lawrence. "But you said you had good news for me," he added quickly. "What is it?"
"It's the best kind of news, Uncle Lester. Don't you know that shortly after you disappeared the bank authorities and the police found the guilty parties?"
"They did?" And now the man's face showed his amazement.
"Why, sure they did! And then, of course, they knew that you were innocent."
"Oh, Phil! can this be true?"
"It certainly is true, Uncle Lester, every word of it! You are an innocent man, and everybody at home knows it. Father has been trying his best to get into communication with you. He inserted personals in the newspapers, and even put detectives on your track; but, as you know, without avail."
"Then the world knows that I am innocent! Thank God for that!" exclaimed the man, with fervor. "Oh, how I have suffered! And for such a long time, too!" And tears stood in his eyes.
"But why didn't you communicate with father?" asked the nephew. "You ought to have known that he would be tremendously worried about you."
"I was bitter, bitter against the whole world. I didn't think I had a friend left!" cried Lester Lawrence. "I didn't want to see anybody, and I didn't want anybody to see me. I was afraid that they might catch me and put me in jail, and then if I could not prove my innocence—and there was to my mind no way of doing that—they would send me to prison for a long term of years. That's why I made up my mind to disappear."
"And you've been up here ever since?" asked Phil.
"No, I've been here only since last Summer. Before that I was in another section of the Adirondacks."
Lester Lawrence looked at Dave and Roger, who had followed Phil into the cabin, and at the other boys, who were crowded around the doorway.
"Who are these; some of your school chums?" he questioned.
"Yes, Uncle Lester," answered the shipowner's son, and introduced his friends one after another. "They are all good fellows, and I hope you will consider them as friends."
"I will do that, Phil, if you want me to," was the reply. "Your revelation has lifted a great weight from my shoulders. Tell me all the particulars."
Sitting down beside his relative, the shipowner's son related all that he knew of the occurrences of the past. Mr. Lawrence listened to the recital with close attention and asked many questions, his face meanwhile showing his intense satisfaction.
"What you have told me makes me feel ten years younger," he declared. "If all this is true—and I have no reason to doubt your word—I can once more face the world and those who are dear to me."
"Phil has got another surprise for you, Mr. Lawrence," put in Dave, when the recital was at an end. "You will not only be a free man when you return to your former home, but you will also have a good deal of money coming to you."
"Indeed! And how is that?"
"It's this way, Uncle Lester," answered Phil, and thereupon gave a few of the details concerning the land which the rival railroads wished to purchase from the uncle and Phil's father.
"That certainly is splendid news!" declared Lester Lawrence, his eyes lighting up. "What a wonderful change the last hour has brought! Before you came I thought I was doomed to live here, unknown and alone, for perhaps the rest of my life."
"But how have you managed to live?" asked Dave, curiously.
"Oh, that has been easy. You see, when I left home I had quite a little money that belonged to me. I buy necessary provisions down in one of the towns, and also do some hunting and fishing. This cabin belongs to the daughter of an old hunter who lived here for years, and as she did not wish to occupy it she let me have it at a very reasonable rental."
"Do you know anything of that wild man who is in this vicinity?" queried Roger.
At this direct question Lester Lawrence dropped his eyes and showed much confusion.
"I am afraid I do," he answered, shamefacedly. "The fact of the matter is, it was I who played the wild man, dressing myself up in some old outfits that were left in this cabin by those who used to live here."
"But what was your purpose?" questioned Luke.
"I wanted to scare the folks in this vicinity, so they would not come near this cabin. I was afraid if too many people came to this neighborhood, sooner or later somebody might recognize me and inform the authorities."
"You nearly scared the ladies and girls in our bungalows to death," said Ben, bluntly.
"I am very sorry for it, now," was the reply. "But you see, what Phil has told me has put an entirely different face on the matter. I looked at all strangers as enemies. I was very bitter against everybody."
"Well, I guess you had a right to feel bitter, Uncle Lester," returned Phil, who could realize how his relative had suffered. "But it's all past now, and you must give up your life here and come home with me."
"I am willing to go home, now that I know my name is cleared," answered Lester Lawrence."But I can't travel just yet," he added, ruefully, looking down at his bandaged foot.
"What is the trouble?" questioned Dave, kindly.
"I sprained my ankle the day I followed one of you boys—that is, I suppose it was one of your crowd. I mean the chap who fell over the cliff."
"Link Merwell!" ejaculated Phil. "He is no friend of ours, he is an enemy. By the way, Uncle Lester, have you seen him since then?"
"He is an enemy, you say!" cried Mr. Lawrence. "Is that so? Yes, I saw him. He was here early this morning, and I chased him away."
"He was here, and you chased him away!" exclaimed Dave. "Have you any idea where he went to?"
"I think he took the trail back of the house; the one leading to Carpen Falls," answered Lester Lawrence. "I slipped on my most outlandish costume, and I must have scared him out of his wits, for he ran like a deer," he added, with a smile.
"In that case there is no use in our looking for him around here," announced Roger.
"I think I'll give the hunt up," said Phil. "Finding my uncle has changed matters completely. What I want to do is to send word to my father that my uncle is found. Then, as soon as he is able to travel, I'll leave you fellows and take him home."
"I think I'll be able to walk on the foot in a day or two," answered Lester Lawrence. "You see I can already hobble around. But that sprain was a pretty bad one, I can assure you!"
After this the situation was discussed for some time—in fact, until well after the noon hour. Then one of the boys suggested that they have dinner, and while Phil and his uncle continued to talk over their personal affairs, Dave and his chums set about getting ready the meal.
While all in the cabin partook of the midday meal, the boys told the hermit about their life in camp, and also of their adventures at Oak Hall and in other places. Lester Lawrence listened interestedly to the recital, and asked innumerable questions concerning their doings, and also questioned Phil regarding conditions at home.
"I'll leave the matter of that land deal entirely to your father," he said to his nephew. "He always had a better head for business than I've got. He'll know the right thing to do."
After the meal it was decided that Phil should remain at the cabin with his uncle, while the other boys returned to Bear Camp. Phil wrote out a message which he asked Dave and the others to send to Carpen Falls, from which point it might be transmitted by telephone and telegraph to his parents, announcing the finding of the long-lost uncle.
"Now that I have found Uncle Lester, I don't want to leave him," said Phil to Dave and Roger, as he drew his two particular chums to one side, out of hearing of the others. "Uncle Lester may be all right in his mind—in fact I hope he is—butat the same time, he has acted so queerly that I don't want to give him any chance to get away from me. Besides, I think he ought to rest so that his lame ankle can get well. I'll do all the work around here and stay until some of you get back, which I suppose will be in a day or two."
"All right, Phil. You stay with him, by all means," answered our hero. "We'll attend to this message, and we'll wait to see if any message comes back from your father."
The boys to return to Bear Camp had thought they must go by the way they had come, but Lester Lawrence told them to follow the mountain torrent for a distance of a quarter of a mile, and then they would reach a broad and well-defined trail leading to the brook which flowed into Mirror Lake.
"It's a much shorter route," he said, "and you will find the traveling much easier."
It was about half an hour later when Dave and the others bid Phil and Mr. Lawrence good-bye, and set out on the return to Bear Camp. Our hero still had possession of the rifle, and Roger carried the shotgun. Under the heavy trees it was both dark and cold, and the boys hurried along as rapidly as possible, not only to make time, but also to keep warm. Dave and Roger were in advance, discussing the finding of Phil's uncle.
"I'm mighty glad on Phil's account that hisuncle has been found," remarked Dave. "The selling of that land at a handsome profit will be a big lift for the Lawrence family."
"Yes. And how it will please Phil's parents to have Mr. Lawrence's brother back!" responded Roger. "As it was, they did not know whether he was dead or alive. It's a terrible thing to——"
Roger broke off short, for at that instant Dave clapped his hand over his chum's mouth and drew him quickly behind a nearby tree. They were well in advance of their friends, and now our hero motioned the others to keep back.
"What is it? What is the trouble?" called out Ben.
"It's a deer, keep quiet!" answered Dave, in a low tone.
"A deer! Where?" questioned Roger.
"Over yonder, by the white birch."
The senator's son looked in the direction indicated, but for the moment saw nothing out of the ordinary. Then, however, a head appeared from between some bushes back of the white birch, and presently a beautiful deer stalked into view.
"I see him," whispered Roger, excitedly. "There is your chance, Dave, plug him!"
Our hero already had the rifle raised. He was about to pull the trigger when he paused, for he had seen the bushes back of the deer move.
"What's up? Why don't you shoot?" whispered Roger, his voice betraying excitement.
"I think there's another deer there, Roger," whispered our hero, in return. "Yes, there he is! Now then, you will have a shot yourself. Take the one on the left and I'll take the one on the right."
"All right," returned the senator's son, and raised the double-barreled shotgun. "Are you ready?"
"Yes. When I say 'three,' fire," answered Dave, quickly. "One, two, three!"
Crack! Bang! The two pieces rang out in quick succession, and as the reports echoed through the forest both deer gave a wild leap into the air. Then the animal at which Dave had shot plunged forward on its knees and fell into some brushwood, kicking wildly. The other deer whirled around and started to run for cover.
"Give it the other barrel, Roger!" yelled Dave, as he ran forward.
There was no need of this advice, for while Dave was yet speaking the second barrel of the shotgun was discharged at the flying deer. Roger's aim this time proved to be better than before, and plunging forward, the deer ran full tilt into a tree and then pitched over on its side, where it soon breathed its last.
Long before Dave reached his quarry he wasready for a second shot should the game require it. But when he reached the deer's side he found that the end of the animal was close at hand. Then he rejoined his chum, who was watching the other deer.
"Is he dead, Roger?" he asked, quickly.
"I think he is, Dave," was the answer, and Roger's tone showed his exaltation. "My! but this is luck; isn't it?"
"I should say yes! Two deer at a clip!"
"How about the one you hit; is it dead?"
"Just about," was Dave's reply, and then he hurried over to the game, to note that it was breathing its last.
"How did you make out?" The cry came from Ben, as he came running forward, followed by Luke and Shadow.
"Did you hit anything?" queried the former story-teller of Oak Hall.
"Did they hit anything!" yelled Luke. "Say, this is great, they got two of them!"
"This is what I call wholesale hunting!" announced Ben.
"You fellows certainly opened the hunting season in great shape," was Shadow's comment. "A wildcat and two deer all in one day!"
The boys dragged the two deer together, and it must be confessed that Dave and Roger looked at their quarry with great pride.
Crack! Bang! The two pieces rang out in quick succession.Crack! Bang! The two pieces rang out in quick succession.Page 253.ToList
Crack! Bang! The two pieces rang out in quick succession.Page 253.ToList
"How are we going to get those down to the bungalows?" asked the senator's son.
"I think the best thing to do will be to tie their feet together and slip each of them on a long pole," returned Dave.
A small hatchet had been brought along for possible use in cutting firewood, and with this the boys cut down two long and slender saplings. Then they tied up the deer as our hero had mentioned, and a sapling was thrust between the front and hind legs of each of the game, allowing the body to hang below.
"Here, Ben, you can carry the rifle," announced Dave. "I'll take one end of one load."
"And I'll help carry with you," announced Luke.
"I'll carry my share of the load," offered Roger, and he picked up one end of the second sapling, while Shadow took the other. Thus carrying the loads between them, and with Ben going ahead with the rifle, they continued on the return to Bear Camp.
Progress with such heavy loads was necessarily slow, and several times the boys stopped to rest. It was well toward nightfall when they reached the stream flowing into Mirror Lake.
Having gained the watercourse, it was an easy matter for them to continue onward until they reached the vicinity of the two bungalows. Assoon as they came in sight of the camp, several set up a shout, which quickly brought Laura and Belle into view.
"Home again, and with lots of good news!" cried Dave, swinging his cap.
"Oh, look, they have two deer!" exclaimed the girl from the West. "Isn't that grand?"
"It certainly is," returned Laura; but her voice had little of enthusiasm in it.
"Where is Uncle Dunston?" cried Dave. "I want him to look at what Roger and I shot."
"Your uncle has gone home," answered Belle. At the same time Laura turned away.
"Gone home!" repeated Dave, in bewilderment. "Why, what made him do that? I didn't know he was going until next week."
"He went with Mr. Wadsworth," continued Belle. "They had some very important business to attend to."
"What was it? Laura, do you know?"
"Yes, I know, Dave," answered the girl, and now her voice had a curious, uncertain ring in it. "Oh, Dave, it's the most awful thing I ever heard of! I don't see how I am ever going to tell you!" she burst out; and then, of a sudden, began to cry and ran into the bungalow.
Dave was so surprised that for the moment he knew not what to say or do. His eyes followed Laura as she disappeared within the bungalow, and then he turned in bewilderment to Belle.
"Laura takes it awfully hard, but I don't think she ought to—at least not yet," said the girl from Star Ranch. "There may not be a word of truth in the story. Anyway, I'm not going to believe it until they prove it."
"But what are you talking about, Belle?" questioned Dave, his face still showing his perplexity. "What is it all about? Has anything happened at home? It isn't my father; is it?"
"No, there is nothing wrong at your home, Dave—at least not in the way you think." Belle paused for a moment as if not knowing how to go on. "You remember what Link Merwell said; don't you?"
"About me?"
"Yes. Of course I don't believe it at all. But this young fellow, Ward Porton, sent word to your father, and that has upset him a greatdeal, so that he sent word to your Uncle Dunston and Laura, as well as to Mr. Wadsworth. The word came in this morning, a couple of hours after you had left; and after talking the matter over, your uncle and Mr. Wadsworth made up their minds to return to Crumville without delay."
"And what did this Ward Porton have to say?" questioned our hero, and it was with an effort that he steadied his voice.
"I can't give you all the particulars, because Laura did not show me the letter. Poor dear! it just broke her up completely, and I've had an awful time with her—and I've had an awful time with Jessie, too."
"But you must know something," went on Dave, while the others gathered around, their faces showing their intense curiosity.
"Well, as near as I can make out, this Ward Porton has been investigating matters connected with himself and with you, and he claims that he is the real Dave Porter and that you are somebody else."
"Oh, say, that's nonsense!" burst out Phil, quickly. "Why, we proved Dave's identity beyond question, when we came back from our trip to the South Seas."
"Sure we did!" added Roger. "Dave's uncle went into all of the details with theCrumville poorhouse authorities, and also got the particulars of how that fellow named Sandy Margot, the good-for-nothing husband of that crazy nurse, Polly Margot, abducted Dave and took him on a railroad train, and then got scared and put him off at Crumville."
"I am sure I hope what you say is true, Roger," responded the girl from the West. "What this Porton bases his claim on I don't know. As I said before, I didn't read the letter Dave's uncle turned over to Laura."
"I must go in and find out about this," said Dave, in a curiously unnatural voice. His mind was in a whirl, and for the time being his good luck at hunting, and the finding of Phil's uncle and the clearing up of the mystery of the wild man, were completely forgotten.
He found Laura in one of the bedrooms of the bungalow, sitting in a chair by the window, with her hands clasped tightly together and her face firm-set and drawn. As she looked up at him, two fresh tears stood out on her cheeks.
"They tell me that Uncle Dunston got a letter about me," said the youth, doing his best to steady his voice. "Will you let me see it?"
"It's on the table," returned the girl, motioning with her hand. And then she added impetuously: "Oh, Dave, I can't believe it's true, Isimply can't! Why, it's the most dreadful thing that ever came up! I am sure there must be some mistake!"
"I—I can't understand it," Dave stammered in return, and then picked up the communication which had been sent by special messenger from Carpen Falls. The letter ran as follows:
"Dear Dunston:"A most astonishing thing has come up, and I wish you would return to Crumville at once; and it might be well to bring Mr. Wadsworth with you."I cannot go into all the details because I am completely upset. Briefly stated the matter is this: A young man named Ward Porton—the same fellow who was in Crumville some time ago with Link Merwell—has written to me, stating that he has every reason to believe that he is the real Dave Porter, and that our Dave is somebody else. His story is that he was left in a poorhouse at Lumberville, Maine, by an old woman who obtained him from Sandy Margot, who told her the child had been under the care of Polly, his wife. The claim is also made that Sandy Margot had in reality stolen two children, little boys, at about the same time, and the theory is advanced that the other boy was the one dropped from the train at Crumville. The young man states that he has gone into the matter very carefully, and has a number of proofs which he will submit whenever called on to do so. He adds that he feels sorry for Dave, but hopes that I will find in him asgood a son, and also hopes that Laura will like him as well as a brother."I am so upset that I hardly know what to think or what to do. If this young man's story is true, then all of us have made a sad mistake, and what Dave is to do in the matter I don't know. Come on as soon as possible and help me to get to the bottom of this terrible mix-up."Your affectionate brother,David Breslow Porter."
"Dear Dunston:
"A most astonishing thing has come up, and I wish you would return to Crumville at once; and it might be well to bring Mr. Wadsworth with you.
"I cannot go into all the details because I am completely upset. Briefly stated the matter is this: A young man named Ward Porton—the same fellow who was in Crumville some time ago with Link Merwell—has written to me, stating that he has every reason to believe that he is the real Dave Porter, and that our Dave is somebody else. His story is that he was left in a poorhouse at Lumberville, Maine, by an old woman who obtained him from Sandy Margot, who told her the child had been under the care of Polly, his wife. The claim is also made that Sandy Margot had in reality stolen two children, little boys, at about the same time, and the theory is advanced that the other boy was the one dropped from the train at Crumville. The young man states that he has gone into the matter very carefully, and has a number of proofs which he will submit whenever called on to do so. He adds that he feels sorry for Dave, but hopes that I will find in him asgood a son, and also hopes that Laura will like him as well as a brother.
"I am so upset that I hardly know what to think or what to do. If this young man's story is true, then all of us have made a sad mistake, and what Dave is to do in the matter I don't know. Come on as soon as possible and help me to get to the bottom of this terrible mix-up.
"Your affectionate brother,David Breslow Porter."
Dave read this letter with care, and then allowed the communication to slip from his fingers. If his mind had been in a whirl before, it was more so now, and for the moment he could hardly think straight. If he was not Dave Porter, who was he? A thousand ideas ran riot through his brain.
"Oh, Dave! it can't be true; can it?" came half-pleadingly from Laura.
"I don't know," he answered dumbly. "I don't know."
"But, Dave, I thought that you and Uncle Dunston proved your identity completely, even before you found father and met me."
"I always supposed we did prove it, Laura," he answered. "We went into the matter very carefully at that time. Nothing was ever said about Sandy Margot stealing two little boys. I always supposed he had taken only one child."
"And to think this other young man is a perfectstranger," went on Laura, dolefully. "There is no telling what sort of a person he is."
"He's no stranger to me. I helped to pull him out of the water when the steam yacht was on fire," answered Dave. "I guess he's all right as far as that goes, although I don't think much of his keeping company with Link Merwell."
"Do you suppose it can be a plot hatched up by Link Merwell?"
"I don't know what to think. This news stuns me. I've got to consider it. Maybe I had better go back to Crumville, too."
"No, Uncle Dunston said you had better stay here—at least for the present. He said if they wanted you they could send you word."
"Oh, all right," and now Dave's voice showed a faint trace of bitterness. "Maybe they don't want me around, if they have really settled it that I am not the real Dave Porter."
"Oh, Dave! Don't want you around!" Laura sprang to her feet, and coming over to him, caught both his hands in her own. "Don't talk that way. Even if they should prove that you are not my brother, I shall always think just as much of you."
"Thank you for saying that, Laura," he returned, with much emotion. "It's nice to know that there is somebody who won't go back on me."
"I don't believe anybody will go back on you, Dave—you have always been so good. Oh, I think this is dreadful—just dreadful!" and Laura showed signs of bursting into tears once more.
"Where are Jessie and Mrs. Wadsworth, and Mrs. Basswood?"
"I think Jessie went over to the other bungalow with her mother. She was as much upset as I was."
"Does she think the story is true?"
"She hopes it isn't. But of course she can't do anything—and I can't do anything either."
"Well, I don't see what I can do." Dave took a turn up and down the room, and then sank on a chair. "This just knocks me endwise. I can't even seem to think straight," he added, helplessly.
"You poor boy!" Laura came over and brushed back the hair from his forehead. "You don't know how this hurts, Dave. Oh, it can't be true!"
"I wonder how long I've got to wait before I hear from Crumville?"
"I am sure I don't know. I think, though, we'll get word just as soon as they know anything definite."
At that moment came a timid knock on the door, and Laura opened it to admit Jessie. The appearance of the girl showed that she was muchupset. Her face was tear-stained and her hair awry.
"Oh, Dave!" was all she said. And then coming straight toward him, she threw her head on his shoulder and burst into a fit of weeping.
"There, there, Jessie! Don't you cry so," he said, soothingly. "I am sure it will be all right."
"But Da-Dave, hasn't Laura to-told you?"
"Yes, she has told me."
"And did you read that letter?"
"Yes."
"But it can't be true, Dave! Oh, tell me it can't be true!" went on the girl, pleadingly.
"I can't tell you whether it is true or not, Jessie, for I don't know," answered the boy, as bravely as he could. "I suppose they'll investigate the matter at Crumville and at that place in Maine, and let me know." He looked at her curiously. "What if they prove I am not the real Dave Porter, Jessie—will you care very much?"
"Care? Of course I'll care, Dave! But don't misunderstand me," she added, quickly. "Even if they prove you are not the real Dave Porter, it won't make any difference to me. I shall think just as much of you, no matter who you are."
"Do you really mean that?" and he clutched her tightly.
"I certainly do! What difference will it really make? You will be yourself, no matter what your name is."
"I know, Jessie, I'll be myself; but who will I be? Perhaps I'll be a 'poorhouse nobody' after all," and he smiled bitterly.
"Never!" returned the girl, emphatically. "You'll never be a nobody, Dave. You are too true, both to yourself and to those around you. You'll make a name for yourself in this world even if they take your present name away from you;" and as she spoke the girl's words rang with earnestness.
A great and peculiar joy seemed to creep over Dave, and despite the blackness of the situation, his heart for the moment felt light. He gazed with emotion at both Laura and Jessie.
"If that's the way you feel about it—and Laura says she feels the same—I'm not going to worry just yet," he answered.