"He looked more like an orang-outang," declared the girl from the West. "If I had met him out on the range, and if I had had a gun with me, I surely would have shot at him!" "I brought a gun along," returned Dave, exhibiting the weapon; "I thought it was a bear scare." The scare was the topic of conversation all through the dinner hour, and it was decided that a letter should be posted to Mr. Aaron Poole the following morning, acquainting him with what had occurred. "It's queer that my husband and Ben and Mr. Porter don't come," remarked Mrs. Basswood, when the meal was nearly over and it was growing dark. "It's quite a walk to Carpen Falls," said Dave. "And you must remember the trail isn't any too good in some spots." "I think I see them coming now," announced Roger, a minute later; and he was right. Soon Ben and his father and Dunston Porter came into full view near the end of the lake. "Talk about an adventure!" cried Ben, as they came up. "Who do you think we met?" "The wild man!" burst out several of those present. "Oh, then he was here, was he? Was it Wilbur Poole?" "We are not so sure about that. We didn't get a very good look at him. He had on such a queer outfit that he was completely disguised." "That's just it!" broke in Dunston Porter. "We couldn't tell who he was, either. He appeared right in front of us on the trail, flourishing a big stick. He let out a whoop like an Indian, gave a leap or two into the air, and then dashed out of sight behind some bushes." "He didn't attack you, did he?" questioned Mrs. Basswood, anxiously. "No," returned her husband, "but, all the same, I didn't like his actions. He might have done some serious damage with the stick he carried." "That man, whoever he is, ought to be put under guard," declared Phil, and then he added quickly: "Did you get any letters, Ben?" "Oh, yes, several of them. Here they are," and placing his hand in the pocket of his jacket, the youth brought forth over a dozen epistles. There was a wild scramble, and the letters were quickly distributed. "Oh, good! Here's a letter from dear dad!" exclaimed Belle. "Excuse me while I read it," and she quickly tore open the communication. All of the girls had letters, and there was also one for Dave and another for Phil. As our hero looked at the communication addressed to him, he could not help but start. He thought he recognized the handwriting as that of Link Merwell. "I wonder what he has got to say now," he mused, and then as the others began reading their letters, he opened the envelope and took out the single sheet it contained. In a large, heavy hand were scrawled these words: "I think before long you will be getting what is coming to you, you poorhouse nobody." There was no signature. CHAPTER XVII THE SWIMMING RACE