"Are you alone?" demanded Prescott in some astonishment, for these were carefully brought-up girls, and it was not like their parents to let them go into the woods without other guard than that of a chaperon.
At that instant Dick's question was answered by the appearance of Dr. Bentley, who, on account of his weight, panted somewhat as he ran.
"Did—-these—-young men frighten—-you so badly—-that you—-made such a commotion—-and caused me nearly to breathe—-my last in running to—-your aid?" demanded the good doctor gaspingly, his eyes twinkling.
"No, sir; we came, like yourself, when we heard the girls scream,"
Dick Prescott explained.
Then, amid much talking, and with as many as three people speaking at once, the story was quickly recounted for Dr. Bentley.
"We've seen the fellow before," Dick explained, "but he always fakes alarm and vanishes. We call him our man of mystery—-the Man with the Haunting Face."
"Some poor, simple-minded fellow," suggested Dr. Bentley. "Probably one whose mild mania leads him to prefer to live in the woods, a regular hermit. My dears, I'm surprised that any of you should be so easily startled and make such noisy testimony to your alarm."
"I'm indignant with myself now—-when there are men standing by," laughed Belle. "But I wish you had seen that man's strange face, Doctor."
"I would like to see it, and punch it, too!" muttered Dave.
"Not a bit of it!" objected Dr. Bentley heartily. "No doubt the poor fellow is sadly afflicted mentally. He's what the Arabs call a 'simple,' and the Arabs have a beautiful faith that all 'simples' are under the direct protection of Allah. So, woe to him who offends one of Allah's 'simples.'"