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

"Nobody told us. We know it," went on Dave. "You have escaped several times, but I guess we've got you now."

"Hi! don't you dare to touch me!" exclaimed Link Merwell, in fresh alarm. "You haven't got any right to put your hands on me."

"Right or wrong, Link, we are going to make you a prisoner," declared Phil, and advancing he caught the youth who had helped to rob Mr. Wadsworth's jewelry works by the arm.

"You let me go, Phil Lawrence! If you don't it will be the worse for you!" bawled Link, and tried to wrench himself loose.

"Here, none of that!" broke in Dave, quickly, and stepping forward, he caught the evildoer by the other arm. "You just march along with us!"

"I won't go!" bawled the boy who had gotten himself into trouble. "Let go of me, I tell you!"

He started to struggle, and for a minute or two Dave and Phil had all they could do to hold him. Then, in sudden viciousness, Link kicked out, taking Dave in the shin.

"Oh, so that's your game, is it?" cried Dave, his anger rising. And then, as Link kicked out once more, he caught the foot and gave the youth a shove that sent him sprawling on his back. Before Link could arise, Dave rushed in and sat down heavily on him.

"Oh!" grunted the fallen one. "D-don't cru-crush my ribs!" he panted. "L-let u-up!"

"I won't let up until you promise to behave yourself," answered Dave, sternly. "For two pins, Link, I'd give you the thrashing of your life. You deserve it. What right had you to send me that note and call me a 'poorhouse nobody'?"

"That's right, Dave. Pitch into him! Give him what he deserves!" agreed Phil. "Maybe a good licking would knock some common-sense into him."

"D-don't you dare to – to t-touch me," panted the boy under Dave. "If you – you do, I'll ha-have the l-law on you!"

"Don't talk about the law!" cried Dave. "The law will take care of you. When I caught you down on Cave Island, and you said that you were sorry that you had joined Jasniff in that robbery and that you were going to reform, I felt sorry for you. But you are a faker, Merwell, and I don't believe you ever will reform, and that's the reason I'm going to do my best now to place you in the hands of the law."

"You – you – you let me u-up!"

"I won't let you up until you promise to behave yourself and come along with us."

"A-all right, I pro-promise."

"Very well, then, you can get up," answered Dave, arising. "But remember, you have given us your word, and if you break it, I'll guarantee that Phil and I will come down on you like a ton of bricks. Now, if you know when you are well off, you'll do exactly as we tell you to."

"I've got a scheme, Dave," broke in Phil, bringing out an extra piece of fishline from his pocket. "Let's tie his hands behind him with this. Then I don't think he'll care to run away – not very far, anyhow."

"Humph! can't you let me walk along without having my hands tied?" grumbled the prisoner.

"We are not going to take any chances, Link," answered the shipowner's son. "Now that we have caught you we are going to see that you get where you belong – in prison."

"You send me to prison and my father will make it hot for you!"

"You stop threatening us, Link!" ordered Dave, sternly.

"All right. But you'll see!"

Much against his will, Link Merwell was forced to place his hands behind him, and in a few minutes Phil and Dave had secured the fishline around his wrists. Then they picked up his cap, which had fallen off, and placed it on his head.

"Now then, march!" ordered Dave. "And no funny work!" And he led the way back along the brook, with Merwell following and Phil bringing up the rear with the fishing outfits.

"Say, how do you expect a fellow to get over these rocks with his hands tied behind him?" grumbled Link Merwell, after he had slipped several times.

"You'll have to do the best you can," returned Phil, coldly. "A jailbird like you can't expect much consideration."

"Bah, you make me tired, Phil Lawrence!" growled the prisoner. "I don't think you'll be able to send me to prison; not for long, anyhow! My father's got plenty of money; he'll get me out some way."

"If he spends any money on you he'll be foolish," returned the shipowner's son. "Now go ahead, we are not going to waste all our time on you."

It was not long after this when they came in sight of the other boys. Ben and Roger were still fishing, while Luke and Shadow were resting on the rocks, the latter telling one of his favorite stories.

"Hello! What luck?" called Ben, looking up. And then he added: "Great Cæsar's ghost! if it isn't Link Merwell!"

"Where did you run across him?" cried Luke, leaping to his feet, followed by Shadow.

"We found him running away from some kind of a wild man," answered Dave.

"The wild man who scared us into fits the other day?" queried Roger.

"We don't know if it was that fellow or somebody else," answered Phil.

Link Merwell was much crestfallen to confront so many of his former schoolmates of Oak Hall. He realized that he was "in the camp of the enemy" in more ways than one. At one time or another he had played each of them some sort of a scurvy trick, and he realized that not one of them would have a good word to say for him.

"Well, I see they have made you a prisoner," remarked Luke, as he noticed that Link's hands were tied behind him.

"Humph! they had no right to do it," growled the prisoner. "Where are you going to take me, anyhow?"

"We are going to take you to our bungalows," announced Dave. "There you will have the pleasure of talking the matter over with Mr. Wadsworth."

At the mention of the name of the man he had robbed, Link Merwell winced and his face paled. Evidently he did not relish what was in store for him.

"Say, having his hands tied behind him puts me in mind of a story," began Shadow. "Once there was a fellow – " and then, as the would-be story teller saw a look of disgust coming over the faces of his chums, he added hastily: "Oh, well, never mind. I'll tell you that story some other time."

"Is Mr. Wadsworth staying up here with you?" asked Link, while Ben and the others prepared to return to the bungalows.

"He is," answered Dave.

"Is his family with him?"

"Yes, we are all up here for a short vacation." Dave looked at his enemy squarely in the eyes. "Link, do you think you are treating me just right? I never put a straw in your way, and yet you have done everything you could to make things unpleasant for me. I tried to help you down on Cave Island, and in return for that you have been sending letters to Nat Poole asking him to help you in hurting me. And then the other day you sent that note calling me a 'poorhouse nobody.'"

"Oh, don't preach to me, Dave Porter!" growled the youth who had been made a prisoner. "I hate that kind of talk. You always tried to set yourself up as being better than any one else. Maybe you could get on the soft side of Gus Plum, but you can't play any such game as that on me. I know what I am doing."

"Link, I'm sorry to hear you talk that way," went on Dave, earnestly. "Do you want to spend all your life in prison?"

"Bah, don't talk to me! Didn't I tell you I don't want any preaching? If I've got to go to jail I'll go, but it won't be for long, mark my words! My father has got lots of money, and I guess the lawyers will know what to do. But let me tell you something, Dave Porter" – and now Link Merwell's face showed both cunning and hatred – "you found fault with that note I sent to you calling you a poorhouse nobody. Well, that is all you are; a poorhouse nobody!"

"See here, Link – " began our hero, his temper rising.

"Oh, now, just wait, Dave Porter! Just wait a little, and you'll find out what I mean. You are a poorhouse nobody and nothing else. Dave Porter? Why, you are not Dave Porter at all! You are a poorhouse nobody; that's all you are!"