e of this?" whispered Roger, looking at Dave in
wonder.
"I have an idea, Roger," answered our hero. "Nat knows that man; in
fact, he is well acquainted with him. I think he is going to try to
make him a prisoner."
"A prisoner? Oh, I see; for the glory of it, eh?"
"No, to get him back to some sanitarium as quietly as possible. I
think Nat would like to do it without anybody around here being the
wiser."
"Oh! Then maybe the fellow is some relative of the Pooles."
"Possibly, or a close friend. But come on, let us see what happens. We
ought to try to capture the man ourselves."
"To be sure. But I don't see how we are going to do it. We are
unarmed, and they say crazy folks are fearfully strong."
"We'll have to watch our chances."
The cabin had a window as well as a door, and to the former the two
boys crawled. Peering through a vine that grew over the opening, they
saw that the wild man had seated himself on a rude bench which he
called his throne. It was covered with a tattered carpet and some
cabalistic signs in blue chalk. Nat had placed his valise on the
ground and was opening it. He brought out the crown and also the rope,
but took care to conceal the latter under his coat.
"Now you must close your eyes and sit perfectly still while I place
the crown on your head," said the money-lender's son. "I will have to
do it from behind, for that is the way they do it in England and
Germany."
"Do they do it in Russia that way, too?" demanded the wild man, and
his eyes took on a glowing look as he gazed at the brass crown.
"Of course."
"Then let it be so." And the wild man sat back on the bench and closed
his eyes, and stroked his straggly beard.
Quickly Nat stepped behind the man, and while he fumbled with the
crown with one hand, he brought out the rope with the other. He was
greatly excited and his hands trembled.
"Now sit perfectly still while I count fifty," said the money-lender's
son. "Then when I----"
He did not finish, for at that instant the wild man let out a sudden
yell and leaped to his feet. He ran to the doorway; and the next
moment came face to face with Dave and Roger.
CHAPTER XXI
SOMETHING OF A CLEW
"Ha! ha! you are the army sent to capture me, are you? But I am not to
be captured! Take the cannons away! Bring up the artillery! Forward
the light brigade! Victory for the King of Sumatra! Oh, if only I had
a company of trained monkeys I would show you how to fight
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