oon 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
hydrog