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A telegram was sent to the Poole family, and the next day came a reply that some men would come to take Wilbur Poole away to a sanitarium. It was established beyond a doubt that he had used the dynamite to blow up the dining-room of Sparr's hotel, and, consequently, our hero and his chums were cleared of that charge, much to their satisfaction.
"I wonder if Nat will come back?" said Shadow. "I should think he would hate to do it."
"I don't think he will," said Luke.
"What will you do if he does come back, Phil?" asked Gus.
"I don't know, Gus. Of course, I'll let him know what I think of him for spoiling my plans for a spread. But I hate to be hard on him, because of this disgrace about his uncle."
"Yes, that's a terrible thing," was Chip Macklin's comment. "I'd hate to have a crazy man in my family."
"Well, such things can't be helped," put in Polly Vane. "The Poole family will have to make the best of it."
It was several days later when Nat Poole showed himself. Phil and Dave did not see him until later, and both were struck by the change in his appearance. He looked haggard and much older, and his arrogance was completely gone.
"Got back, eh?" said Phil, walking up to him.
"Yes," returned the money-lender's son, and his voice sounded hollow.
"What have they done with your uncle, Nat?" asked Dave, kindly.
"Put him in another sanitarium, where he will have the best of care and doctoring."
"I hope he gets well."
"We all hope that." Nat swallowed a lump in his throat and then looked gloomily at Phil. "Well, you got the best of me," he said, shortly.
"How the best of you?" demanded the s.h.i.+powner's son.
"I understand you found out about that spread."
"I did."
"Well, I'll pay for the damage done--as soon as I get the money. I haven't any now--Dad's got too much to pay on Uncle Wilbur's account."
Nat swallowed another lump in his throat. "I'm sorry I did it now, Phil, honest I am," he went on, brokenly.
"Well, if that's the case, let us drop the matter, Nat," was the instant reply. "I don't believe in hitting a fellow when he is down.
You haven't got to pay me anything. The whole thing is past and gone,--and that ends it."
"Thank you." Nat wanted to say something more, but his voice suddenly broke and he turned away to hide his emotion, and then walked away.
"He's. .h.i.t and hit hard," said Roger, in a low voice.
"And you did well to drop that matter, Phil," added Dave. "Maybe Nat has learned a lesson he won't easily forget."
Dave was right about the lesson Nat Poole had learned. He was deeply humiliated, both by the exposure concerning the feast and by what had been learned concerning his insane uncle, and for a long time was quite another boy.
It may be added here that at a new sanitarium, and under first-cla.s.s medical treatment, a marked change came over Wilbur Poole, and in less than a year he was completely cured of his weakmindedness. With a nurse as a companion he went into the country to rest both body and mind, and later on came out into the world again as well as anybody.
Strange to say, he remembered nothing of calling himself the King of Sumatra, nor of blowing up Jason Sparr's hotel. But others did not forget about the blowing up, and the damage done had to be settled for by Mr. Aaron Poole, who was his brother's guardian and manager of his estate for the time being.
CHAPTER XXIX
A BIT OF EVIDENCE
"Dave, what do you make of this?"
"Well, to tell the truth, Phil, I don't think much of it."
"You don't think it is a clew?"
"Do you?"
"It's rather faint, I must confess."
"Oh, I don't think there is anything to it," declared Ben.
"There is something, but not a great deal," came from Roger. "I don't see how you are going to follow it up."
This talk between the boys occurred after Dave, Phil, Ben, Roger, and Buster had called upon Jason Sparr and the justice and insisted on seeing the letter the hotel man had received which stated that the boys were guilty of blowing up the dining-room of his hostelry.
The hotel man had treated them kindly, for he was in dread that the boys would get their folks to sue him for damages. He had offered to pay back the money taken from Phil for the spread, and the s.h.i.+powner's son had taken the amount, to which he was justly ent.i.tled.
The examination of the letter had revealed next to nothing. It was evidently written in a disguised hand, but some of the letters looked like Job Haskers's handwriting. In the corner of the paper some sort of an advertis.e.m.e.nt had been torn off, only the letters, "_blisher_"
showing.
"I think those letters are part of the word, '_Publisher_,'" Dave had said. "This letter was evidently penned by somebody who used some publisher's blank."
"Maybe Job Haskers had those blanks," Phil had exclaimed. "Remember, he said he published or was going to publish something once upon a time."
The boys talked it over, but could reach no conclusion. Jason Sparr told how the letter had come to him, but this added no new light on the subject.
"Well, it was a nasty trick, no matter who played it," said Dave.
"I sha'n't rest until I find out who did it," retorted Phil.
All were resolved to watch Job Haskers and also Nat Poole. But while doing this they had to turn once more to their studies. Phil, Ben, and Buster had to work harder than ever, and so did Dave, to make up for the time lost during their absence. But Doctor Clay was kind to them, and for once Job Haskers did not say anything, although he showed that he expected them to "toe the mark," as Roger expressed it.
Several weeks slipped by, and during that time Oak Hall played several games of ball. One game of importance was won, and this was celebrated in a befitting manner. Dave attended the games, and so did Phil and Roger, but none of the three allowed the sport to interfere with their studies. All were "in the grind," and resolved to graduate that coming June with the highest possible honors.
During those days Dave received many letters from home. His folks and friends were glad to know that the wild man had been captured and the mystery of the blowing up cleared away. Jessie sent him a very warm letter in particular, congratulating him for bringing back the runaways, and saying she hoped he would have no more trouble during the final term at Oak Hall. She added that she and all the others expected to come to the school at graduation exercises.
"Now it is up to me to make good," said Dave, after reading this letter several times. "Dad expects it, and Jessie, and everybody, and I am not going to disappoint them."
But it was no light task to remain at the top of the senior cla.s.s, or even near it, for there were bright seniors in plenty, including the studious Polly Vane, who seemed the brightest of all. But Dave plugged away, day after day, resolved to keep at it until the very last. He was writing on his theme and had it about half finished.