The course of the money-lender's son was along the river road, and he followed this for the best part of a mile. Then he branched off on a side-road leading to what were known as the Chester Hills. It was hard work pushing the machine up the hills, but Nat kept at it steadily, and Dave and Roger followed. Strange to say, the money-lender's son did not once look back after leaving the school. Evidently he was of the opinion that nobody had observed his departure, or, if so, had taken no particular notice of it.
From the top of one of the hills, Nat struck off on another side-road, leading to a little valley. Here was a brook, and at a point where it widened out, a small and really beautiful island. In the center of the island a cabin had been built by some sportsman, and a rustic bridge connected the resort with the shore.
Reaching the rustic bridge, Nat dismounted, and with his valise still over his shoulder, walked towards the cabin. As he did this Dave and Roger came quite close and they, too, dismounted, keeping in the shelter of some trees near by.
"Stop! I command you, in the name of the King of Sumatra, to stop!"
The call came from the cabin, and a second later the wild man appeared. He was clad in a blue pair of trousers and over his shoulder was thrown a big red blanket. On his head rested a crown made of a tin pail cut into sharp points.
"I salute you, King of Sumatra!" called out Nat, making a low bow.
"Ha! it is my servant that speaks," said the wild man. "Bow low, bow, I tell you!" and he flourished a wooden sword that he held in one hand.
"It is the wild man, sure enough!" whispered Roger, in great excitement.
"And evidently he has been expecting Nat," returned Dave. "Let us get closer and see what is up."
They advanced with care until they were behind a tree at the very foot of the rustic bridge. In the meantime Nat had gone forward, bowing low at every step.
"I have brought you something, my king!" cried the money-lender's son. "Something of great importance to you."
"What is it?" demanded the wild man, his curiosity excited.
"A new crown. It is of gold, a beautiful crown."
"Ha! ha! that is well! The King of Sumatra needs a new crown!" cried the wild man, strutting up and down in front of the cabin. "Give it to me, that I may see if it fits." And he held out his empty hand.
"Let us go into the cabin, and you can sit in your chair of state while I place it on your head," said Nat, in a soothing, persuasive voice. "You will like it, I know."
"Did you bring your army with you?" demanded the wild man, suspiciously.
"No, I am all alone--the army is at Oakdale," answered Nat.
"Again 'tis well. Come in, and I will sit on the throne," and with a sweeping gesture of welcome, the wild man stepped back into the cabin, and Nat Poole followed.
"Now, what do you make 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!"
Thus speaking, the wild man danced around before Dave and Roger, swinging his wooden sword close to their heads. Indeed, our hero had to dodge back, to keep from being hit.
"Hello, you here?" cried Nat, coming from the cabin. "You followed me, did you?" He scowled deeply. "It's just like you, Dave Porter!"
"Nobody shall follow the King of Sumatra!" went on the wild man, with a cunning look at the three students. "Away! Out of my sight!" he yelled.
He dashed past Dave and Roger, moving towards the rustic bridge. Our hero caught him by the arm, but received a blow in the face that staggered him. Roger also tried to catch the man, but he was too quick, and a second later was on the bridge.
"Come back!" bawled Nat. "Come back, Uncle Wilbur! Don't you know me? Come back, please! We won't hurt you!" And then he set off after the wild man, who was running along the road beyond the bridge.
"Dave, did you hear that?" gasped the senator's son. "He called the wild man Uncle Wilbur!"
"Yes, I heard him," returned our hero. "No wonder he has been after him, Roger. Come on, let us see if we can't catch him."
The chums started after the wild man and the money-lender's son. The way was along the road, but presently the wild man turned into a stretch of woods. He could run like a trained athlete, and easily outdistanced Nat, who kept calling after him.
When Dave and Roger came up they found the money-lender's son leaning against a tree, out of breath and much disgusted.
"Couldn't get him, eh?" queried Roger.
"No, you fellows scared him off," growled the money-lender's son.
"I am sorry if we did that," said Dave.
"You had no right to butt in," grumbled Nat. "What did you follow me for, anyway?"
"Because we thought you were after the wild man, that's why," answered Roger.