“Oh! oh! oh!” came of a sudden, to their startled ears. “Oh dear me!”
“It’s Nat!” ejaculated Dave. “Something has happened to him!”
“Maybe the wild man attacked him,” added Gus. 128
“We’ll soon 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.