“Yes, he’s a queer chap,” said Will. “Now don’t make any noise and we’ll catch him.”
The sailors had talked in whispers since the noise had told them the stranger was approaching. They now placed themselves, one on either side of the door, to be ready to grab the fellow when he should come in. From where they stood, Will and Sam could watch the wild man coming along.
Every few seconds he would stop and seem to be listening with all his might. He had seen some strangers in his house, and though these strangers were kind people, who meant him no harm, the wild man did not know that, for he had been alone so long that he had grown a little queer.
After listening two or three times and hearing no sound from his house (for Will and Sam kept very quiet) the man walked on again. He was now within ten feet of the place and was walking a little faster.
The sailors had a good look at him. Truly he seemed a wild person. His clothes were tattered and torn and in one hand he carried a big club with a knob on the end. But it was his long hair and long and matted beard that gave him the wildest look.
“He looks just like the wild man in the circus!” whispered Sam.
“Keep quiet!” whispered Will. “He’ll hear you!”
But the strange man did not appear to hear the sailors. He came on, a little more slowly now, and was almost at the door. Will and Sam were on their tiptoes, ready to jump and grab the fellow, when, all of a sudden, Sam went:
“A-ker-choo!”
It was such a loud sneeze that it made Will jump and it frightened the man outside. He jumped, too—jumped up in the air. Perhaps he thought that when Sam sneezed “A-ker-choo!” he said: “I’ll catch you!”