Dave Porter At Bear Camp: or, The Wild Man of Mirror Lake

"Do you think he's as bad as that?" questioned Shadow.

"Yes, I do!" was the flat answer.

Fishing in the vicinity of the lake was not very good, so the boys pushed further and further up the brook, until they reached a point where there was a little waterfall and a pool of considerable size. Here fishing was better, and soon they had quite a number of specimens of the finny tribe to their credit.

"Come on, Dave, let's go up a little farther," pleaded Phil. "I'd like to see what this brook looks like beyond the falls."

"All right, I'll go," answered our hero. "What about you fellows?" he asked, of the others.

"I'll stay here and rest," announced Roger. "I'm tired of scrambling over the rocks."

"So am I," agreed Ben. Shadow and Luke also said they would remain in the vicinity of the pool.

Dave and Phil found it no easy task to follow the brook, which wound in and out among the rocks and brushwood. At one point they had to do some hard climbing, and once the shipowner's son slipped and came close to spraining an ankle.

"Say, I don't believe I'll go much farther, after all," declared Phil. "This is rough and no mistake!"

"It is better walking a little farther on, Phil," announced Dave. "Come on, don't give up this way! Maybe we'll find some extra large fish up there."

Once more they set out, and soon found themselves in a small clearing, backed up by a cliff fifteen or twenty feet in height, and overgrown with brushwood and trailing vines.

"Hark! What was that?" exclaimed Phil, as both came to a halt preparatory to casting their lines into the stream.

"I think it was a shout," answered Dave. "Maybe the others are calling to us."

"No, I think the call came from up on the cliff, Dave. Listen, there it is again!"

Both strained their ears and soon heard another cry. This time it was much closer.

"Stop! stop! let me alone!" Such were the words that floated to their ears. "Please don't hit me! Let me alone!"

Dave and Phil looked at each other curiously.

"Who can it be?" questioned the shipowner's son.

"I don't know, but I guess we had better try to find out," answered our hero.

CHAPTER XIX

THE CAPTURE OF LINK MERWELL

"Where did that cry come from, Dave?"

"I think it came from the top of the cliff, Phil. Listen! there it goes again."

Both boys strained their ears once more, and now heard another voice, heavy and threatening.

"Leave this place! Leave at once, I command you! No one has any right to disturb me!"

"Don't hit me, I'll go!" returned the one who had first spoken, and a few seconds later he came into view at the edge of the cliff.

"Hello, it's Link Merwell!" burst out Dave, in amazement.

"Yes, and see, that wild man is after him!" added the shipowner's son.

He was right. Following closely upon the appearance of Link Merwell the boys at the foot of the cliff had seen some brushwood thrust aside, and now appeared the strange fellow who had so frightened the girls some time previously. He was dressed up more fantastically than ever, and had his face smeared with red and yellow. Over his shoulder, suspended by a strap, he carried an old-fashioned fowling piece, and in his hands was a heavy club.

"Go away from here! Go away, I say, and never come back!" cried the strange individual, dancing around wildly and flourishing his club close to Link Merwell's head.

"All right, I'm going! Please don't hit me!" pleaded the youth, who was plainly in terror of his life. And then, in his haste to escape, he took several steps forward.

"Look out there, or you'll have a bad fall!" yelled Dave, in quick alarm.

The warning, however, came too late. Deceived by the brushwood and vines growing at the edge of the cliff, Link Merwell lost his footing, and the next instant came tumbling headlong.

"Ha, ha! I told you to keep away! Now don't come back!" yelled the fantastically-dressed man in the bushes behind the cliff; and then with another yell he suddenly disappeared from view.

Dave and Phil rushed forward fully expecting to find Merwell seriously hurt. But in falling the youth had been fortunate enough to catch hold of some of the trailing vines, and these had stayed his progress somewhat, so that all he received was a violent shaking-up.

"Don – don't let – let him sho – shoot me!" spluttered Link Merwell, as he turned over and scrambled to his feet. Then, for the first time recognizing those who stood before him, his face showed more concern than ever.

"Who's that fellow who attacked you, Link?" asked Dave, quickly.

"I don't know – some crazy old lunatic, I suppose," muttered the former student of Oak Hall. "Is he – he – coming after me?"

"No, he just dashed out of sight," answered Phil. "He's the same chap who nearly scared the girls to death," he added to Dave.

"How do you know? He didn't look like that fellow," returned our hero.

"I recognized him by his voice, even though he is dressed quite differently, Dave. He must be as crazy as they make them."

"Oh, so you know him, do you?" put in Link Merwell, questioningly. He had gotten to his feet and was now straightening out his apparel.

"I must say, Link, I didn't think I was going to have the pleasure of meeting you so soon," said Dave, with a little bit of pardonable sarcasm.

"Humph!" Link Merwell was on the point of saying more, but bit his lip and kept silent.

"So you were on board the steam yacht when she took fire," put in Phil.

"I was."

"Why didn't you show yourself; were you afraid?"

"That was my business. I didn't have to show myself if I didn't want to."

"We know well enough why you didn't show yourself, Link," broke in our hero. "And we also know why you left Mr. Appleby's camp so suddenly. You were afraid of arrest."

"Who told you that?"