“Me? Know him? How should I know him?” demanded the money-lender’s son, but his apparent astonishment did not, somehow, ring nor look true.
“That is what I wanted to find out.”
“I don’t know him—at least, I don’t think I do. I’ve never seen him close enough to make sure. Maybe he’s some fellow who belongs around here. I wanted to find out about him—just as everybody else wants to find out, that’s all.”
“Want to have him caught and placed in an asylum?” asked Gus.
“It’s not my business to place him anywhere,” cried Nat, hastily. “For all we know, he may be harmless.”
“Not when he stops young ladies on the road and catches folks in steel-traps,” answered our hero, with a faint smile.
“Well, that’s right, too,” grumbled the money-lender’s son. “Maybe he ought to be in an asylum.”
“I think he is on this island now,” went on Dave. “His rowboat is here, anyway.”
“Say, I’ll tell you what we can do!” cried Gus. “Take his boat with us! Then he can’t get away, and we can send the authorities over here to get him.”