“What about that crazy man, anyway?” demanded Ted, his mouth agape with curiosity.

“I don’t believe he’s crazy at all, though he may perhaps be a little flighty in his head,” Prescott answered.  “At any rate, he isn’t violent.  There’s no danger in him.  Ted, won’t you take back these-----”

Teall shook his head with vigor.

In the meantime four Grammar School boys had stationed themselves around Garwood, who stood under a tree chewing a blade of grass.  Hi, either from modesty or humiliation, had retired into a clump of bushes.

“They’ve gone to find that boy who took the clothes, I suppose,” remarked Amos Garwood, looking towards Dave Darrin.  “That was a strange boy, a very nervous boy,” continued Garwood aloud.  “Just as soon as I told him my name, he turned and fled like a streak of lightning.  I wonder what ailed him?”

“I wonder?” repeated Dave solemnly.

“And that boy said something else that made me very curious,” went on Amos Garwood.  “He said something about a crazy man.  I almost thought he referred to me, though the boy himself was the only one who showed any signs of being crazy.  What did he mean?”

“He hasn’t told us,” Dave rejoined.

But Hi, who felt that he was being shamefully used by the crowd, suddenly broke in with: 

“If your name is Garwood, then Ted Teall meant that you’re the one that’s crazy.  And I know where the boys have gone.  They’re not looking for my clothes at all.  They’re looking for constables to come and seize you!”

“You shut up, Hi Martin!” raged Tom Reade, making a dash at Hi’s leafy screen.

But the harm was done.  Amos Garwood changed color swiftly.

“Ha, ha!  Ho, ho!” he laughed harshly.  “I begin to understand now.  But no one shall seize me.  I won’t let any one take me.”

He started madly through the bushes, not seeking a path.  Dan, who was nearest him as be passed, leaped and threw both arms around the man, bringing him to the ground.  Dave leaped to aid Dalzell, nor was Hazelton long in getting to the spot.  Tom Reade decided to defer the punishment of Martin, and went to the aid of his friends instead.

Though he had been downed swiftly, Garwood was almost as speedily on his feet, fighting desperately.  Darrin he seized and hurled several feet into a thicket.  Dalzell sought again to wind his arms around the fellow’s legs, but was brushed aside as though he had been a fly.

Tom Reade received a blow against his right shoulder that sent him reeling away, while Hazelton, in trying to get a new hold, was boxed over his left ear in a way that seemed to make the earth revolve about him.

Hardly had the scrimmage started when Garwood was free.

“No one shall stop me, or hinder me!” cried Amos exultingly, then wheeled and raced through the forest.

After him, as soon as they could recover their faculties, dashed the Grammar School boys.  For a minute or two they had him in sight.  Then Garwood, on his long legs, sped ahead and out of sight.  For another half minute they could hear the man’s progress through the brush.  After that all was so still that Darrin and the others halted, gazing perplexedly at each other.