It was from in front of the old house that the cries for assistance came, and now the boys heard two voices, both somewhat girlish in tones.
“Oh, let me go! Please, let me go!” came, wildly.
“You have no right to touch us!” was added, in another voice.
“What’s the matter?” called out Dave, as 83 loudly as he could. But in his mind there had already flashed an inkling of what was going on. For some time past the wild man of that locality had not shown himself. Now, perhaps, he was again at his old tricks.
“Oh, make him go away!” screamed a girlish voice, and then, as our hero made a turn of the road, he caught sight of two girls standing near the old stone house. Back of them was another figure, that of a tall, powerful man, but this figure disappeared as if by magic, behind the ancient building.
“Why, Miss Rockwell!” exclaimed Dave, as he recognized a young lady from town whom he knew well. “And you, too, Miss Feversham! What is the matter?”
“That man—the wild man!” panted Vera Rockwell. “He—he—stopped us!”
“He wanted our purses!” added Mary Feversham, the other young lady.
“Where is he?” asked Roger and Phil, in a breath.
“He just ran behind the house—I saw him,” answered Dave. “Did he hurt you any?” he went on, anxiously, for he and Vera and Mary were good friends.