“It’s a terrible thing for the Poole family—to have such a crazy man in it,” was Buster’s opinion; and the other lads agreed with him.
The prisoner was marched along the brook, past the home of old Herick, and then down the river-road. By this time all the searchers had come together, including Henry Morrison and some outsiders.
“I’m mighty glad you’ve got him,” said the farmer. “And I hope he don’t get away from you.”
“He won’t get away,” answered Mr. Dale.
“The women of this district have been afraid to go out alone,” went on Henry Morrison. “They’ll be glad to know he’s been captured.”
“We’ll have to let the Pooles know right away,” said Dave.
“I fancy Doctor Clay will send a telegram,” 270 answered Mr. Dale. “And in the meanwhile we’ll have to take the prisoner to the Oakdale lockup.”
It was nearly noon when the crowd reached Oak Hall. The wild man had but little to say. His capture had evidently broken his spirit, and he was inclined to cry. But when Doctor Clay asked him if he would like to have something to eat, he brightened up wonderfully.
“It is a sad case,” said the master of the Hall. “But under proper treatment I think he can be cured.”
The news quickly circulated throughout the school that the wild man had been caught and that he was Wilbur Poole, an uncle to Nat, and all the boys were anxious to catch a sight of the strange individual. The teachers and servants were likewise curious, and looked at him as he ate his dinner in a corner of the dining-hall, surrounded by those who had captured him and who were watching, to see that he did not get away. He was not allowed to use a knife and fork, but his food was cut up for him and served with a spoon.