Chapter IX: At the Old MILL

Difficult it would be to say which party was the more surprised. Certain it was, though Tom and his chums knew that their former teacher intended coming to the vicinity, and though they realized that Sam and Nick had gotten off the train with camping stuff near Wilden, they never expected to meet the three in this spot.

And, for that matter, neither did Mr. Skeel and the two lads, with whom he seemed to be on friendly terms, think to behold Tom, for the former plainly showed the surprise he felt.

“Well what do you know about this?” asked Jack, in a low voice.

“It’s the limit,” agreed Tom.

“Mind your wheel or you’ll have us on shore,” said Bert. “There’s a big rock just ahead of you.”

Tom shifted the wheel with a rapid turn. He had been so interested in looking at the trio on shore that he had not noticed where he was steering.

“Shall we speak to ’em?” asked Jack.

“No, don’t,” advised Bert. “There’s no use getting into an argument.”

“And yet we might find out something about them, and what they are doing up here,” insisted Jack, who generally liked to take the initiative.

“I guess we’d better not,” spoke Tom. “Anyhow, they wouldn’t give us any satisfaction. If they hail us we’ll answer, and that’s all.”

But the three on shore evidently had no intention of speaking. After his first stare of surprise Mr. Skeel was seen to speak to Sam and Nick, and then, with a final glance at our friends, the trio turned and plunged back into the woods.

“Well, that’s over--for the time being,” remarked Dick.

“Yes,” assented Bert. “Can you see which way they’re going, Tom?”

“Why should we want to?”

“Because they may be going to the same place we are.”

“What, to the old mill?”

“Sure.”

“They don’t know anything about it,” declared Tom.

“How do you know? That story of buried treasure is more or less known all over this section, and the hunt old Wallace is making for it, too. So why shouldn’t Mr. Skeel, and Sam or Nick know of it?”

“Well, maybe you’re right,” agreed Tom. “But we can’t see which way they’re headed. The brush is too thick.”

“We’re not far from the mill, if I’m any judge,” said Jack.

“Why?” Tom wanted to know. “How can you tell? You’ve never been there.”

“No, but there’s a current setting into the lake now, and that means the river isn’t far off. The mill is on the river, so, naturally we’re near the mill. Q. E. D., as we used to say after we’d floundered through a geometry proposition.”

“Well, maybe you’re right,” admitted our hero.

“Another thing,” went on Jack. “If we’re near the mill, so are those fellows. So you see----”

“By Jove!” cried Tom. “I shouldn’t be surprised but what you were right, Jack. This man Skeel would be up to any proposition to make money, and he may, as you say, have heard the rumor of treasure in the old mill.”

“How do you account for him meeting Sam and Nick?” asked Bert.

“Oh, it probably just happened,” suggested Tom. “If they are camping near here, and Skeel is doing the same thing, it’s not out of reason that they should meet. Well, if they’re after the treasure in the old mill I don’t see what’s to prevent us having a go for the same thing.”

“If Old Wallace will let us,” put in Bert.

“Oh, well, we’ll have to take a chance with him,” said Tom. “We’ll have to wait until he’s away from home, which he seems to be most of the time.”

“And if we get the treasure, what will we do with it?” inquired Dick.

“Wait until we do,” laughed Tom. “I don’t believe there is one chance in a thousand of there being any treasure there, and if there is, it’s a hundred to one shot that we can’t find it, nor can anyone else. But it will be fun to have a go for it.”

“And if we do find it,” put in Jack, “we’ll all take a trip to Europe.”

“No,” spoke Tom, quietly, “if we do find any treasure, it will have to go to the one who owns it--the old hermit, very likely.”

“Oh pshaw!” cried Jack. “After the mean way he treated us, Tom?”

“Sure. Right is right. But say, don’t let’s get into an argument over such a remote possibility. Wait until we get to the mill, and have a look around. I’m an expert on buried treasure, and I can tell, as soon as I see a place, what the prospects are,” and Tom’s chums joined in his hearty laugh.

“Well, speed up,” suggested Jack, “and we’ll see what sort of an Eldorado lies before us. Westward ho!” and he struck a dramatic attitude.

Tom turned on more gasolene and advanced the spark, so that the _Tag_ shot ahead. There was no further sign of Professor Skeel and the two boys.

“There’s the river!” exclaimed Bert, about a quarter of an hour later, as the boat went around a bend, and they came into view of a stream flowing into the lake. It was as wild and picturesque as the lake itself, with big trees on either bank, overhanging the water in places.

“Say, that’s great!” cried Tom. “I’m going to get some pictures of that. Take the wheel, Jack, while I get out my camera.”

Tom was soon snapping away, getting a number of fine views, while with Jack at the wheel, and Dick to watch the motor, the _Tag_ swept slowly into the river. The current was not strong at this point, and it was possible to slow down to half speed, as the lads did not know the character of the water, nor how much depth there was, though the _Tag_ did not draw more than two feet.

“Let’s see who’ll spot the old mill first,” proposed Tom, as he adjusted his camera to take more pictures when the ruin should be sighted.

“I’d rather get the first sight of the hidden treasure,” declared Jack, who seemed to have more faith in the existence of the secret horde than did the others. “Anyone can see a mill,” he went on, “but it takes an eagle eye to spot treasure.”

“And I suppose you think you’ve got the eagle eye!” laughed Bert.

“Sure I have. Say, Dick, isn’t it almost lunch time?”

“I don’t know. I’m not the cook this week. It’s up to Tom.”

“Can we eat, Tom?” asked his roommate at Elmwood Hall.

“Not until we get to the mill. Work before pleasure, my boy. That’s the rule here.”

“Well then, get ready with the grub,” said Jack, quietly, “for there’s your mill,” and he pointed just ahead of them.

“By Jove! So it is!” exclaimed Tom.

They had gone around a turn in the river, and on one bank, situated on a little rise, were the ruins of an old stone mill.

In its day it had been a big structure, built of field stone, and it must have been a substantial place to which the settlers for miles around probably came with their grain. But now it was in ruins, through the ravages of time and the hands of those who sought the treasure.

As the boat approached it the boys could see where a flume had been built to take the water from the river, and direct it over a big wheel. Of the latter there was little left. Trees and underbrush grew up close to the old structure, near which were the rotting remains of a wharf where, in the olden days, likely, the craft of the settlers had tied up when they came with grist.

“Say, it’s a wonderful ruin all right,” said Tom in a low voice. “Put over to shore, Jack, while I get a picture. Then we’ll get out and have a look around.”

As Tom focused his camera, and clicked the shutter, there was a movement in the tangle of vines and bushes near what had been the main entrance to the mill.

“Look out!” exclaimed Jack. “Some one’s coming!”