“Stop!” cried Dave.—Page 87.
“No, he might do some shooting on his own account,—if he is armed. Come on, he may fall, or something like that.”
Inside of three minutes more the wild man gained the shore of the river and disappeared around a point of rocks and brushwood.
“Be careful, Dave,” warned Roger. “He may spring out at you with a club.”
“I’ve got my eyes open,” was the ready reply.
Both advanced with caution, and soon came up to the nearest of the rocks. With clubs ready for use, the two youths continued to move forward. Then they came to a sudden halt. The wild man was no longer in sight. What had become of him?
“Maybe he ran into the woods,” suggested Roger.
“Perhaps, but—hark!” And our hero held up his hand. From a distance came a scraping sound, like something sliding over a rock.